


Waiting on a villain

by xxawalkinwonderlandxx



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy is a villain, Clarke is in charge of finding him, F/M, Not like he would make her life easy or anything, Wish fulfillment program, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxawalkinwonderlandxx/pseuds/xxawalkinwonderlandxx
Summary: Usually when children ask to see someone as their wish, it means a superhero or a celebrity, not one of the largest villains in the country. But, that's exactly what Charlotte does, and Clarke isn't about to let her down. If Charlotte wants to see The Rebel, then she's going to see The Rebel. It's just...Clarke doesn't know how to find him exactly...Based off a post from Tumblr :)
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 155
Kudos: 276





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke has a job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to swainslake on Twitter for encouraging me to post all of my WIPs :)

Clarke puts her shoulders back and lifts her head as she walks into her boss’ office. She’s only been working for Arkadian Wishes for about five months at this point, and, so far, she’s fulfilled all of her patient’s wishes. There have been stories about some kids wanting things that no one could ever give them, but no one talks about them much. It rarely happens, but sometimes it does, and this is where she’s at now. It’s not that Charlotte wants something that  _ isn’t _ obtainable, but it’s never been done before.

“Clarke Griffin,” Vera Kane looks up as she walks into the room. “Take a seat, please.”

“Mrs. Kane—” 

“Vera, please.” The older lady smiles, and Clarke can feel herself relax a little. 

“Vera,” Clarke begins, “I know that what Charlotte wants hasn’t been done before, but I want to try at least.”

“Are you sure about this, Clarke?” Vera raises her eyebrows. “Once we tell our patients that we are going to fulfill their wish, it’s not something we can back out of. You do understand the repercussions that this can have, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do.” Clarke nods. She’s thought about this a lot, and she believes she might be able to do this. She wants to  _ believe _ that she can do this. Clarke’s thumb runs across the face of her father’s watch on her left wrist, and she takes a deep breath. “Just because no one has ever wanted to meet one of them, does not mean that they could be so cruel as to say no when they find out that it is a dying child’s wish. I know I can do it.”

“Well,” Vera leans back in her leather chair, steepling her fingers in front of her face, “if you want to try it, then who am I to tell you no?” The lady pulls open the drawer in front of her and pulls out a manila folder and hands it to Clarke. “I thought you might want to try, so I did what I could to gather some information for you. It’s not much, but,” Vera shrugs.

Clarke opens the folder and is met with two pictures held in place by paperclips.  _ The Rebel _ is in big, block letters across the sheet of information, and Clarke skims over it before turning back to the pictures. One is of a newspaper clipping, with the guy glaring at the camera and black makeup smeared around his eyes, and the other is of him in his costume with a little girl wrapped under one of his arms, but her face is blurred out. 

“Thank you, Vera.” Clarke smiles as she closes the folder and stands. “I’ll do my best.”

“I do not doubt that.” The older lady smiles, and Clarke nods once before starting towards the door of the office. “And, Clarke?”

“Yes?”

“I am not sure what Charlotte sees in him, but if The Rebel agrees to this, then, you may be the first person ever in Arkadian Wishes history to do something that people believe to be impossible.”

Since she’s not sure what to say, Clarke only nods her head then pushes her way out the door. Children ask for heroes time and time again as their wish, but no one has ever requested a villain. Clarke isn’t sure what Charlotte sees in The Rebel either, but she is in no position to question or judge what this little girl wants. Over the years, The Rebel has stolen millions from the wealthy, and no one has been able to catch him. No one knows who he is.

Clarke throws the file down onto her desk and takes a seat. Since no one knows where any of the villains hangout, Clarke resigns herself to the fact that she’s going to have to put a lot of time into trying to find any information she can on him. The public knows the basics: he steals money, tricks politicians, and on the rare occasion, tortures people. So, Clarke takes to pulling every news article she can from everywhere she can that mentions The Rebel, and by the end of the day, she has five different folders filled with articles, pictures, and interviews that she can sift through.

“Damn, Clarke,” Raven pops her head over the wall separating their desks, “kill enough trees?”

“I process better when I have hard copies in front of me,” Clarke murmurs as she flips through one particularly rough case finding. 

“So, you’re really doing it? You’re going to try and track down The Rebel for Charlotte’s wish?”

“I’m hoping I can actually do it, but, yeah, I am.”

Raven lets out a low whistle ,and Clarke tears her eyes away from the papers in front of her to look at her friend. “You sure you can do it?”

“I believe I can.”

“Well, if  _ you _ think it can be done, then let me help. We can order pizza and drown in paper.” Raven moves around the wall and props herself up on the side of Clarke’s desk as she grabs one of the folders. “Maybe we can call Monty and Jasper, too.”

Clarke yawns as she leans back in her chair and stretches, not surprised when her bones don’t stop popping the further she leans back. “Yeah, I think that would work.”

“Perfect.”

Grabbing an empty box, Clarke puts all of her folders into it with the file that Vera gave her sitting on top. It doesn’t occur to Clarke until she’s halfway home that if it were easy to track down a villain, then the heroes would have succeeded years ago, but she reminds herself that maybe they aren’t able to find the villains is because they  _ are _ heroes. If a hero comes looking for a villain, no will give them up, but if it’s just a normal girl looking, then who would tell her no? At least, that’s Clarke’s reasoning. 

“Alright, party time!” Jasper walks through the apartment door as soon as Clarke sets her box of files down, and she turns to look at him.

“We’re not  _ partying _ , Jasper, I have work I need to get done.”

“But who says we can’t drink while we work?” Jasper grins, and Clarke finds it hard to keep a straight face with him.

“Fine. but only a couple, I still need to function.”

“I don’t,” Jasper shrugs.

“A little help?” Raven appears in the entryway, and both Clarke and Jasper move to grab the bag of sodas and pizzas from her. 

“I followed the smell of food and the sound of someone needing help.” Monty slips into the apartment, too, and closes the door behind him. “What’s up?”

“So,” Clarke begins as she pulls some paper plates out of her cabinet and begins passing them around, “the two of you know about my new patient, right? Charlotte?” Monty and Jasper mumble around their pizza. “Well, she wants to meet someone, and now I’m in charge of finding them.”

“Well that can’t be too hard. I mean, don’t the police have some of the heroes’ phone numbers on file?”

“Yeah, but that’s the problem,” Clarke says as she pulls a slice of pizza out of the box, “it’s not a hero. Charlotte wants to meet The Rebel.”

Jasper chokes on nothing, and Monty’s eyes go wide as he looks at her. “The Rebel?”

“She wants to meet a villain?” Jasper asks, and Clarke nods. “Why?”

“She seems to find him inspiring,” Clarke shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“And Arkadian Wishes is okay with this?”

“Vera seems fine with it, and she’s the one who gave me this.” Clarke pulls out the little folder from on top of everything she’s printed out and hands it over to them. “It’s not much, but it’s all she could find. And this,” Clarke pats the box, “is everything I could find on him while I was at work.”

“You’re saying that we have to go through all of these?” Jasper points at the box.

“Yep.”

“And what are we looking for?” Monty asks as he flips through the little file. “Anything in particular?”

“Well, since no one knows where the villains congregate on their days off, I’d like to find out where The Rebel hangouts. I don’t expect to find that in any of these files, but maybe it would give me an idea as to where I can start looking.”

“How much time?” Monty looks up at Clarke and she takes a deep breath. That’s the thing about situations like these. They need to work quickly to fulfill the patients’ wishes because their time is limited. 

“Her prognosis is six months,” Clarke says quietly, and Raven’s hand comes up to squeeze her shoulder.

“If anyone can hunt down this guy, it’s going to be you, Clarke.”

“Yeah, and we’re definitely going to help.” Jasper chimes in.

Clarke looks around at her friends, and, for the first time, she thinks that this might not be as hard as she thought. For the rest of the night, Clarke, Raven, Jasper, and Monty all sit around Clarke’s living room and work their way through the files. They all write down things that tell them about The Rebel’s character, his MO, which is tagging TRK, though no one knows what the K stands for, and then they mark a map with every place he’s been spotted.

Five hours later, and one bottle of wine in, Clarke throws the empty folder up in the air and lays back onto the floor. “It’s impossible.”

“We’ve barely gotten started,” Raven nudges Clarke’s side with her toe. She laid down about ten minutes ago. 

“We’ve gone through all of the files, and we’re still not any closer to finding him than we were five hours ago,” Clarke groans.

“Come on, have a little faith.” Jasper lays between the two girls and turns his head to smile at Clarke. “I think we just need another drink.”

“Or, a change of perspective.” Monty lays down on the other side of Clarke. “No one knows where he hangs out, but no one knows his true identity either.”

“Yeah, and your point is?” Raven asks.

“My  _ point  _ is that if we can figure out who he is, then we’ll probably have a better chance of finding him.”

“But if people could find out Heroes and Villains identities easily, then it wouldn’t be such a mystery,” Clarke points out.

“No, I think Monty is onto something.” Raven hauls herself up into a sitting position. “People don’t actively look for the identities of them because it’s against their code. They wear the masks and paint for a reason, and if someone tries to take that away, then they’re breaking an unspoken law.”

“Okay, I think I see where you’re going with this.” Clarke rests her arm on her forehead. “We’re not heroes, or the police, or anyone of any power or authority, so…”

“So,” Monty continues, “it wouldn’t be wrong if we were to try and find their real names ourselves, because we don’t have to adhere to any code or law or whatever.”

“Exactly.” Raven grins. “And it would be a lot easier than trying to go through another box of folders.”

“But there are hundreds of thousands of people here in Arkadia. How could we possibly find one guy within all of that?” Clarke looks between the two of her friends, and they smile at each other.

“I think we have an idea.”

“Well, if the two of you have ideas as to what we can do, then let’s get to it.”

So, instead of papers littering Clarke’s living room, Monty and Raven both pull out their laptops and begin typing away on them while Clarke and Jasper try to find as many pictures as they can of The Rebel. There’s not as many of him as there are of other villains, and that’s mainly because no one is ever around enough to catch him on camera. As soon as people realize he’s there, he’s gone.

Raven and Monty’s ideas were to try and recreate what The Rebel would look like without his face paint around his eyes, but it’s not as easy as they thought. The pictures that they found were all dark, with most of them being in black and white, so their plan ended up not working. But, Monty came up with doing facial recognition, and Raven may or may not have hacked into some traffic and city cameras. 

It’s fine, though. It’s for a good cause. At least, that’s what Clarke keeps telling herself. What they’re doing is totally illegal, but Clarke is determined to find this guy for Charlotte. With everything that the little girl has been through, she deserves it. 

After a few more hours of trying to set up and create the program, Monty and Raven tell Clarke that it’s probably going to take them a few days. Coding is already tricky in and of itself, but actually creating something to scan certain aspects of people’s faces is another thing entirely. 

“You guys don’t have to do all of this, I can just do it the good old-fashioned way,” Clarke yawns, and everyone around her follows suit. 

“I think doing it the old-fashioned way might take longer than us having to make this.” Raven motions to the computer Monty is on. 

“If you want, you could start looking yourself, and then when this is up and running, you can use it as a secondary source,” Monty offers.

“Yeah, I suppose I could.” Clarke yawns a second time then hauls herself off her couch. “But I think we can all call it a night now.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” Monty stands, too. “I’m ready to pass out.” 

“Same.” Raven holds her hand out for Clarke to help her stand. “I say we pick up with this tomorrow.” 

“I second that,” Jasper mumbles from his spot on the couch, and Clarke smiles.

“Thanks for helping me.” 

“What are friends for?” Monty smiles. 

Clarke falls into bed next to raven with the television in her living room, filtering in through the hall with the sound of Monty and Jasper getting themselves ready to go to bed, too.

Yeah, no one has ever tried this before, and The Rebel is known to be ruthless at times, but he can’t say no to a little girl. Can he? Clarke rolls over and pulls her pillow towards her. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since Charlotte made her request, so there’s still time. 

As Clarke falls asleep, she just keeps reminding herself that while it may be hard, it’s not going to be impossible. Charlotte is going to get what she wants, and Clarke is going to make sure that nothing happens to ruin it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaannnddd it's begun! What do you think so far? I'd love to hear any theories/thoughts/comments/concerns ;)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So, I realized that I never posted the inspiration for this fic, so here it is! It's from a post on Tumblr!
> 
> https://beka-tiddalik.tumblr.com/post/146056821665/katyakora-robininthelabyrinth-oneiriad-i/embed

Even though she’s supposed to have Saturdays off, Clarke wakes up to the sound of both her and Raven’s phones buzzing nonstop. When she wakes up enough to realize that’s what’s happening, she reaches over to silence it without checking to see who it is. Clarke has a hangover from hell, and she’s ready to sleep the day away. 

“Clarke, wake up.” Raven taps her arm a couple of times, and Clarke groans, pulling a pillow over her head. “Clarke, get the fuck up! We have to head to Arkadian.”

“Why?” Clarke’s voice is muffled under the pillow, and Raven pulls it away. 

“The heroes have an issue with Charlotte’s wish.”

Clarke’s eyes snap open as she looks at her friend. “What?” 

“Get out of bed!” 

The two of them huff and change out of their pajamas, with Raven raiding Clarke’s dresser as Clarke rushes into the living room to find Monty and Jasper waking up, too.

“What’s happening?” Monty asks as he runs his hands over his face. 

“I’m too hungover for this,” Jasper groans.

“The two of you can stay here, Raven and I are going to go check it out.”

“Alright, I’ll make breakfast once I wake up.” Monty settles back into the cushions on the couch and crosses his arms over his chest. “Let us know what happens.”

“At a decent time,” Jasper adds.

Raven jogs out of the hallway, and Clarke tosses her a honeybun and a bottle of water before they make their way to Clarke’s car. Since it’s early on a Saturday, there are not many people out on the road, and Clarke gets lucky with not catching many red lights.

“Have you found anything yet?” Clarke asks as she makes her way onto the bridge.

“Nothing,” Raven mumbles as she scrolls through an article. “None of the news outlets have posted anything, no emails, nothing that would even suggest there’s an uprising happening at work right now.”

“Well, we don’t know if it’s an uprising or not.”

“ _Something_ has to be going on for some of the largest heroes in our city to show up at Arkadian with a shit ton of police officers, Clarke,” Raven points out. “And it’s all because Charlotte wants to meet The Rebel.”

“Shouldn’t they _want_ a little girl to have her wish, though? She’s not any different from the kids that ask for them.”

“Except she _didn’t_ ask for them.” Raven sighs and leans back in the passenger seat, tearing open the honeybun wrapper. “I don’t think even you can talk your way out of this.”

“Good thing there’s nothing to talk about,” Clarke grumbles, and turns towards the exit that brings them to the wish building. 

The road in front of the building is completely empty, other than a few cars lining the side of it. Of course, with the amount of police officers that are there, Clarke would have expected to see some of their cars, but there’s a place for them to park off the road, so no one gets curious. Sighing, Clarke opens the door to her car and steps out of it, and Raven does the same. Even though the outside seems calm, the look the two of them share shows that they both know it’s not going to be like that once they step foot inside.

The receptionist at the front smiles at them when they enter and the two of them make their way to the elevator to bring them up to their floor. It’s not a long ride, but Clarke crosses her arms over her chest and taps her foot against the carpet, watching the floors go up. _They are not going to ruin this for Charlotte. They can’t._ When the elevator dings and the doors open, Clarke storms out of it only to be faced with a complete madhouse.

There’s at least half of the police department on the floor, along with Father Prime, Demeter, Shaynetta, Stalia, and Iron Saber. No one notices Clarke and Raven when they enter, but Clarke grabs Raven’s hand and pushes through the throng of people until she reaches the edge of the crowd and sees Vera. The lady notices her, too, and Clarke can see her visibly sigh in relief. 

“Vera!” Clarke calls.

“Oh, there you are. I was wondering if you and Raven were getting my texts.” Vera reaches out when they get closer to her and pulls them into the opening with her. 

“Mrs. Kane,” Father Prime says, “we need to come to an understanding that this will not happen.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow as she turns to look at the superhero. He always wears a blue outfit with gold trim and a mask with golden vines on it. He’s a god where he comes from. “And who are you to dictate what a little girl can ask for?”

The guy looks down at her, and Clarke crosses her arms over her chest. “Who might you be?”

“Father Prime, this is Clarke. She’s the one in charge of Charlotte’s wish,” Vera explains.

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you.” The man inclines his head, but Clarke doesn’t move. 

“Too bad it’s on the wrong foot,” Raven grumbles.

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” Demeter steps forward, “but we cannot allow this.” She’s not the actual goddess, but that’s the name she chose.

“Why not?” Raven steps forward. “Charlotte asking to see The Rebel isn’t any different from kids asking to see any of you.”

“But there is a difference,” Captain David Miller steps forward, “this is a notorious villain. He’s wanted all over the country, and there’s evidence that he’s tortured people. We cannot allow him around a little girl.”

“Captain Miller,” Clarke turns her attention towards the older man. She’s talked with him on numerous occasions, and she’s even friends with his son. But Nate doesn’t seem to be in this mess. “I understand your reservations about a villain being asked for, but if you read the case reports, the people he tortured were always shown to have done something terrible.”

“Terrible enough to deserve torture?” Iron Saber asks, and Clarke looks at him. 

“We should ask that about some of your people.”

The hero’s lips form a thin line, and Clarke takes a step back to look at everyone. None of them look happy, but Clarke isn’t here to cater to any of them. She’s here to make sure that Charlotte gets her wish, and that’s exactly what she’s going to do. Even if it means she pisses off the heroes and most of the police force while she’s at it.

“Here at Arkadian Wishes, our jobs are to make sure that these children get their biggest wish fulfilled. We’ve sent some around the world, we’ve called all of you multiple times, we’ve planned trips to Disney, concerts...we have _never_ given up on a child’s wish when we knew we could fulfill it.”

“What makes you so sure you can fulfill this one?” Shaynetta asks, and Clarke lifts her chin.

“In the five months that I’ve been here, I have never let one of my children down, and I do not plan on letting Charlotte down. If you stand in the way of this little girl getting her wish, then what kind of heroes are you? People admire you, and you inspire them. What would they think if they found out that you stood in the way of a dying girl’s wish?”

Everyone looks at her, and Clarke looks back. There’s a slight murmur going around the floor, and the heroes look between each other. _I hope this works._ She understands everyone’s reservations about asking The Rebel to visit Charlotte, she had them herself at first, but if this little girl sees something wonderful in this person, then she’s not going to stand in the way. 

“Do we have an understanding?” Clarke asks after a while, and even though they do not look happy, all of the heroes nod, as well as Captain Miller and his men. “Good.”

“Now, that is settled,” Vera claps her hands together and looks at the heroes and Captain Miller, “why don’t the seven of us talk in a conference room? We have children who would like to meet you.”

“Of course, Vera,” Father Prime smiles and motions for her to lead the way.

“If we’re not needed, Raven and I will get back to our research. If that’s okay?” Clarke says, and Vera smiles at her.

“Of course, dear. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will,” Clarke assures her, and with one last round of goodbyes, Clarke and Raven make their way out of the building and back towards the car. 

When Clarke shuts her door, she leans her seat back and sighs. “Well, that went better than I thought it would.”

“That went fucking amazing,” Raven laughs. “You called Iron Saber for potentially torturing his criminals and basically said that the heroes would be assholes if they didn’t let Charlotte meet a supervillain.”

“Well, they would be,” Clarke grunts, then sets her chair back upright and runs her hand through her hair. “Would you mind if we make a detour at the hospital? Then we can go next door and get some coffee.”

“Like you even have to ask,” Raven sinks down into her chair and smiles. “I’d love to meet the girl that’s responsible for this uprising.’

“It’s not an _uprising_ ,” Clarke says as she pulls out onto the road. “Just a misunderstanding.” Her friend snorts in the seat beside her but says nothing as Clarke starts towards the hospital.

She tries to stop by and see Charlotte as much as she can, spending time drawing with her and helping her with her homework, and when she and Raven enter her room, Charlotte is sitting in her bed, hunched over a coloring book. The girl looks up when the two of them walk in, and she grins.

“Clarke!”

“Hey, Charlotte.” Clarke smiles and walks further into the room, taking up one of the chairs. “This is my friend Raven I’ve told you about.”

“It’s nice to meet you!” Charlotte’s grin widens. “Clarke says you’re a badass mechanic.”

“Charlotte! Don’t use that word,” Clarke admonishes, and the girl looks at her.

“You use it!”

“I’m also older than you.”

“I mean, kid’s got a point.” Raven smirks as she sits down on the couch. 

Clarke snorts and rolls her eyes as she looks at her friend, then turns back to Charlotte. Next to her on the bed is a The Rebel plushie, which Clarke knows came from a company that makes plushies for kids who want them, and hanging on her wall is a drawing she asked Clarke to do of him. 

“How are you feeling, Charlotte?” She asks, and the little girl shrugs.

“I’m okay. The doctor said that I don’t have to get another bone marrow transplant yet, but I heard him and my parents talking about if I should get another one at all.”

“Oh, Charlotte—”

“It’s okay,” Charlotte looks up. “I don’t really want one anyways.”

“Well, I think I have something that might cheer you up.” Clarke leans forward in the chair and rests her elbows on her knees. 

“Am I going to get to meet The Rebel?” The little girl guesses, and she looks up at Clarke with her brown eyes wide and a smile on her face that is really pushing Clarke’s composure to its limit.

“Yeah, Charlotte,” Clarke nods her head. “You’re going to get to meet The Rebel.”

“Oh my god!” Charlotte moves to her knees and beams. “I am? I’m really going to get to meet him? When?”

“You’re really going to get to meet them,” Clarke nods her head. “I don’t know when he’s going to come, since he’s very busy, but he’ll show up, okay?”

“Okay.” Charlotte nods her head as she sits back down and pulls out a clean sheet of paper and a red color pencil. “I’m going to draw him a picture for whenever he gets here.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Clarke smiles. “Can Raven and I help?”

“Yeah, here you go!” Charlotte hands over a few more pieces of paper and a pack of crayons before turning her attention back to the drawing in front of her.

The three of them color in silence for a while, well, mostly in silence because Charlotte asks Clarke for tips on how to get the right color that she wants and if she thinks that her lines are straight enough, but they don’t stop drawing all the same. Clarke has the idea to draw Charlotte as a hero, but since she wants to meet a villain, Clarke decides to draw her as a mini Rebel. When she looks over at Raven, she’s in the process of drawing a mechanical robot with a space that looks like it would be big enough to fit a person.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to become the next in the line of superheroes?” Clarke asks teasingly, and Raven glances up at her.

“What makes you so sure it’s a hero?”

“Yeah, villains aren’t all bad,” Charlotte chimes in. “Like The Rebel.” Clarke stays silent as he looks at the girl, but Charlotte doesn’t seem to notice as she pulls out a notebook and begins to write something on it. 

“Charlotte, can I ask you a question?” Raven asks.

“Sure.”

“Why did you choose to meet The Rebel instead of one of the others?”

“Because he’s nice,” the girl says without looking up.

“What makes you say he’s nice?”

“He helps people.”

“How so?”

“For one of my field trips at school, before I got sick, we went to a soup kitchen to help cook food and when we got there, they told us that they had someone who always donated to them. It was him.”

“How did they know?”

“The card was tagged with a tiny TRK and said ‘from your friendly neighbor supervillain’.” Charlotte smiles when she looks up. “People want to hate him because he steals, but he does good with it. It’s just no one wants to see that.”

Clarke and Raven both sit there for a moment while they mull everything over. Of course, everyone knows that The Rebel has stolen millions from the wealthy, sabotaged politicians, hurt people, but Clarke never knew that he supposedly also helped the less fortunate. _That would explain what he does with the money_. She never thought about what he did once everything was over, but she does know that Charlotte is right. Even if a villain does do good deeds, no one wants to see it. Clarke looks over at her friend, and Raven raises one of her eyebrows and shrugs. _I hope I can find him_.

“Charlotte, which soup kitchen did your school go to?” Clarke asks, and the girl looks at her.

After spending an hour and a half with Charlotte, Clarke and Raven make their way back to Clarke’s apartment, but not without Charlotte telling Raven that she should follow her Instagram page. As they leave the hospital, Clarke is pretty sure she can see her best friend wiping away tear before it can fall down her cheek. On their way back home, Clarke thinks about the soup kitchen and if there might be other places that The Rebel visits with gifts.

Whenever they walk through the front door, the smell of biscuits and bacon hits Clarke’s nose, and she follows it into the kitchen where Monty and Jasper are cooking. Monty waves the spatula at them whenever he catches sight of them, and Jasper smiles as he grabs Clarke’s arm and pulls her towards the laptop that is sitting on the island.

“There is absolutely no mention of any donations or gifts under the name TRK or a message that says ‘from your friendly neighbor supervillain.’”

“Okay, then why do you seem so happy?” Clarke asks.

“Because we found a list of volunteers and donors.” Monty calls over his shoulder. “Maybe we can do something with it.”

“How the hell do y’all find this stuff?” Clarke leans onto the counter and looks at the screen. As she scrolls, she sees just how many names are on each of the pages. “And how the fuck are we supposed to go through _all_ of these people? It would take weeks!”

“Not if we get rid of the names that seem female,” Raven says as she reaches over and grabs the laptop, pulling it towards her. “It should give us a better list after that.”

“Well, I, for one, can’t work on an empty stomach. Breakfast is ready.” Monty pulls a tray of biscuits out of the oven and sets them on the counter next to Clarke.

“Right. Eat, take a nap, then we’ll work.” Jasper grins as he picks up one of the biscuits, and Clarke smiles as she does the same. 

Now that everyone seems to be on the same page with the fact that Charlotte should definitely get her wish, even if it is to meet a villain, Clarke can rest a little easier knowing that no one is going to try and stop her. However, that doesn’t mean that finding The Rebel is going to be any easier than it was before. She just hopes it doesn’t take too long. 

After they all finish breakfast and Clarke and Raven catch Monty and Jasper up on what was happening at work, and tell them about their visit with Charlotte, they take their places scattered across Clarke’s room like the night before. Clarke and Jasper split the list of people up between them so Monty and Raven can continue to work on their facial recognition software. One look at Monty’s computer, and Clarke decides to leave the technical stuff up to them. 

They work until the afternoon, and just when Clarke’s eyes are beginning to cross from looking at her computer screen for so long, her phone vibrates. When she looks at it, it’s a text from Nate Miller.

_My dad says you made quite a speech today_

Clarke snorts.

_If calling out a bunch of heroes for trying to be assholes about a little girl’s wish, then yes. Yes I did_

The three dots pop up showing that Miller is typing, but they disappear pretty quickly.

_Doesn’t surprise me  
_ _Lunch?_

Clarke smiles.

_Take out at my place? Raven, Monty, Jasper and I are looking for tips on The Rebel_

“Hey, guys, I think Miller is coming over for lunch.” 

“Thank god,” Jasper groans, “someone else to help us.” Clarke’s phone goes off again.

_Sounds good to me. I’ll grab the food_

Miller shows up at her house twenty minutes later with two armfuls of McDonald’s and a look on his face that makes Clarke want to laugh. After their food is set out on the coffee table in the living room and more pillows and blankets have been brought out of the room, they all sit around and Miller looks at them. 

“How’s the search going?”

“Well, we’ve spent 12 hours trying to find something on this guy, and the only less we have came from Charlotte,” Jasper says. 

“Charlotte? How did she give you a lead?” Miller looks towards Clarke.

“Apparently a soup kitchen she visited when she was in school got donations from someone who tagged a note TRK and a message that said ‘from your friendly neighborhood supervillain.’” 

Miller raises his eyebrows and looks between all of them. “And they think it’s The Rebel?”

“Who else would it be?” Monty asks. “No one tags TRK like he does.”

“But that doesn’t mean it is him.”

“Why would someone pretend to be a villain? Much less make them seem like they’re not terrible?” Jasper looks at Miller.

“Well, Miller does have a point.” Raven sets down her chicken nuggets and rests her arms on the table. “We don’t know for sure that it is him, but we also have no reason to doubt it. This is the only lead that we have so far, so I think we need to take it.”

“I think we definitely need to take it.” Clarke sits up straighter and looks at her friends. “We don’t have much time, so I’m not about to get rid of a tip that could possibly help us because of what-ifs and buts.”

“Hey, we’re not going to give up, okay?” Raven reaches over and places her hand on Clarke’s knee. “Charlotte’s going to get her wish.”

“Yeah.”

“She is.”

“I’ll help, too.” Miller nods his head. “If this little girl wants to meet him, then I don’t see why she shouldn’t.”

“Even if he’s a villain?” Clarke raises her eyebrow and Miller shrugs. 

“Maybe he isn’t as bad as people think he is.”

Stunned by her friend’s response, Clarke smiles a little and thinks back to what Charlotte said. There is a reason as to why she wants to see him specifically. Clarke knows there is. She might not completely understand it, at least right now, but hopefully by the time she finds this guy, she will. 

When they finish their lunch, Miller asks them to show him what all they’ve done so far to look for him, and even though he raises an eyebrow at Monty’s vague explanation on how they accessed the traffic and security cameras, he says nothing. Miller’s not _on_ the police force, but he’s around there enough with his dad and he knows all of the laws by memory at this point. That’s not saying he needs to know all of the laws for him to know that what his friends are doing is illegal. They just won’t talk about it. 

They all work well into the night again as they look for anything remotely related to The Rebel and through the list of people from the soup kitchen. Clarke makes a plan to visit the next day, and ropes Miller into coming with her so Raven, Monty, and Jasper can all continue to work on the program. It’s not much, but it feels like they’re getting somewhere. 

At some point, Clarke finds herself doodling on her notebook pages rather than actually taking notes on what she’s supposed to be reading. If they just had an actual picture of him to use against the facial recognition, then it’d probably go a lot easier rather than trying to find specific facial features. 

As her pencil begins to move, she looks over at the newspaper clippings. _He has a dimple on his chin, a sharp jawline, high cheekbones..._ lines spread across the page as she goes. _His hair is probably dark brown, maybe black..._ swirls begin to appear, too. _But his eyes…_ all of the pictures they have are dark enough to where not much of his eyes can be seen behind the black paint. She does her best, but when she’s finished, it feels off.

Sighing, Clarke turns the picture around and clears her throat, causing everyone else to look up. Miller smirks as he looks at it, and Raven leans in closer, squinting, while Monty and Jasper smile. It’s not the best drawing she’s ever done, but hopefully it’ll help somewhat. 

“I think we could use this,” Raven says as she reaches out for the picture. “With the makeup gone, it’s easier to figure some things out.”

“Yeah, our program might not have to work as hard if we use this,” Monty agrees.

“But it’s sill just a picture,” Raven points out. “It won’t just magically ping in our system.”

“No, but it’ll be _something_ to reference.” Monty holds out his hand for the picture. “This is good, Clarke. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Clarke leans back and stretches, feeling her joints pop. “We still have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Well, I was going to spend the rest of my weekend playing Red Dead Redemption, but this is a much more valuable use of my time.” Miller smiles and Clarke laughs a little.

“I’m glad you think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it says that this story will only be 5 chapters, but that's tentative right now (honestly, it might be about 10, but we'll see lol) I've loved reading all of your comments!! They really do mean the world to me :)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up the following morning, Clarke squints as she looks at the messages on her phone. There’s a text from her mom, notifications from Instagram and Facebook, but what catches her attention is a message from Vera in their work group chat.

_If anyone leaks Charlotte’s request to the press, they will be dealt with accordingly_

Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together as she looks at the message, then she swipes open on the notification. There’s a rule that any and all wishes are to be kept under wraps and it’s up to the family to decide whether or not they want other people to know, but Clarke knows that Charlotte’s family is private. If anyone at Arkadian wishes tells reporters about what a child wishes for, then it’s going to be a bad situation. They’ve never had it actually happen though. _But with Charlotte’s wish...there’s always a first time for everything_. The thought makes Clarke’s blood run cold.

With the amount of police officers and heroes at the building the day before, she’s surprised that the news didn’t know already, but Vera has always had an uncanny ability to keep things from spreading. Clarke just wonders if it’s going to be enough this time. A couple of people liked Vera’s message, but no one has responded to it. What are they supposed to say exactly? _“Don’t worry boss, I won’t sell the information”_?

Clarke rolls onto her back, nearly elbowing Raven in the back of the head, and runs her hand over her face. With how different this situation is, she figures she’s going to have to keep Vera up to date with everything that she’s doing, and that way they can assure Charlotte’s family that they’re doing what they can. Clarke just hopes it’s enough.

She slides out of bed, careful not to shake it too much so she doesn’t wake up Raven, and then walks to her sliding doors that lead out to her balcony. The sun is bright, and Clarke backs up into a shadowed corner so she doesn’t have to squint so much. Since she and Miller have to go to the soup kitchen today, she’s going to have to start getting ready soon. She takes a deep breath of morning air before looking back at her phone and pulls up Vera’s contact, pressing the call button.

“Good morning, Clarke,” the woman says, and Clarke smiles.

“Good morning, Vera.”

“How is the search going?”

“It’s going okay. I talked to Charlotte yesterday, she’s still the happy little girl you remember, and she told me something interesting about The Rebel.”

“Oh? What might that be?”

“She told me that when she was still in school, they took a field trip to a soup kitchen.”

“And what was special about this soup kitchen?”

“Apparently they got gifts from someone who claimed to be their friendly neighborhood supervillain and signed the messages with ‘TRK.’”

Vera is silent for a moment, and Clarke can hear her moving around on the other end of the line. “And were they sure that this is actually The Rebel? It could just be someone claiming to be him.”

“Yeah, that’s what we asked ourselves last night,” Clarke sighs. “But I’m still going to go check the place out today. I’m bringing Nate with me.”

“Captain Miller’s son?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, well, keep me updated with how that goes. I’m not sure how much you’ll find out, but it’s always worth a shot.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Clarke pushes off the wall she’s leaning on. “I’ll call you again when I find out more.”

“Alrighty, I’ll be here. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

Clarke sighs and runs her hand through her hair, glaring when her fingers get caught on some knots. The guys crashed in her living room again, so she’s going to have to take a shower and then get Miller up, and then get to the kitchen. She shuffles back into her room and into her bathroom. After two late nights in a row, and a hangover that still seems to be lingering, Clarke wishes she could stay in the shower for longer, but she has work to do. Stuff like this doesn’t wait for people to get cleaned up.

When she walks back into her room, Raven is awake in the bed and looking at her phone, not bothering to look up when Clarke enters. “Does Vera really think someone would tell the news about Charlotte’s wish?”

“I mean, with how much of an uproar it’s caused, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. Would you?”

“No, I guess I wouldn’t.” Raven sighs. “Why can’t they just let the girl have what she wants?”

“Because people can be assholes,” Clarke mumbles, sifting through her dresser drawer for a pair of shorts. “As we saw yesterday.”

“True.”

“But I don’t even know if we’ll be able to give her what she wants,” Clarke says softly, more to herself than anything. Then, a pillow flies by her head and hits the wall. She whirls on her friend. “Hey!”

“Nope, none of that shit. Okay?” Raven raises an eyebrow at her. “You are going to find this guy, and you’re going to get him to see Charlotte. If there’s anyone who can find this bastard, it’s you.”

“But I don’t know what I’m doing, Rae!” Clarke leans against her dresser. “ _No one_ has ever asked for a villain, and no one has just been able to find them on their own. If this soup kitchen is a bust then I’m back at square one.”

“Then the soup kitchen isn’t going to be a bust,” Raven shrugs. “You’ll find _something_ , and me, Monty, and Jasper are going to be here working on our program. If you don’t believe you’re going to get this, then you’re not going to get this.”

“When did you come philosophical?” Clarke asks, the corners of her mouth turning up, and Raven yawns.

“I’m always like this before I have coffee.” Raven stretches. “You can get dressed and I’ll go wake up the guys.”

“And start coffee?” Clarke asks, and Raven snorts.

“What am I? Your housekeeper?” She teases, then starts laughing. “Of course I’m making coffee.”

“Thank you!” Clarke calls, and Raven waves her hand over her shoulder as she walks out the door.

Thirty minutes and two cups of coffee later, Clarke feels more awake and ready to take on whatever is about to be thrown at her once they get to the soup kitchen. Miller still seems half asleep on his feet as they make their way to her car, and when he gets into the passenger seat, he leans it all the way back and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Are you really going to sleep now?” Clarke asks as she backs out of her parking spot.

“I’m tired.”

“It’s nearly eleven in the morning, it’s not like it’s early.”

“It’s the weekend. You know I don’t wake up until at least noon,” Miller mumbles, and Clarke shakes her head even though she’s losing the fight against the smile that’s trying to force its way onto her face. She pulls out onto the road and starts towards the kitchen, pulling her sunglasses out of their holder and putting them on.

“You have a big thermos of coffee, drink it and keep me company.”

“Mmm...you’re bossy.”

“I’m not bossy.”

“Kind of bossy. You bossed the superheroes around yesterday.”

“I didn’t _boss them around_ , I told them to quit being assholes about Charlotte’s wish.”

“You bossed them into not being assholes.” Miller counters, and Clarke groans.

“I thought you were tired?”

“I thought you wanted company?”

“I changed my mind, go to sleep,” she grumbles, and Miller laughs.

“See? Bossy.”

In an effort to avoid answering him, Clarke turns on the radio. There’s an alternative rock station that she usually enjoys listening to already pulled up, and she turns the volume up a little, though not trying to ruin Miller’s attempt at getting a few more minutes of sleep. It’s a nice day, and as she looks around, Clarke wonders if it means she’ll have luck at the soup kitchen. She hopes she will, for Charlotte’s sake.

 _You’re not supposed to promise anything_ , a voice in the back of her head says, and Clarke tries to push it away. It’s true, she’s _not_ supposed to tell anyone that she can, for sure, one hundred percent, do something when it comes to their wish, but she couldn’t tell Charlotte that she didn’t know if her wish would come true. It would have broken her heart. Which is why Clarke is going to make damn sure she gets The Rebel to agree to meet her. He has to.

When she comes to a stop at a redlight, Clarke props her arm up on the driver’s door and rests her head in her hand. She thinks about when she was younger, and how she always wanted to meet a superhero. Like most kids, she had her action figures and costumes, and even though Arkadia didn’t have the big-name heroes, they loved the ones that they did have. She just never thought she would end up getting angry at them one day.

When the light turns green, Clarke straightens in her seat and presses on the gas, but something out the corner of her eye catches her attention. On the side of a building, nearly tucked away in an alley, is a picture. It’s not of a person, necessarily, but black war paint that a certain villain wears. It’s only the paint, though. There’s no eyes that have been drawn, or any facial features, but it’s still his face paint nonetheless. She would recognize it anywhere. Without a second thought, Clarke checks the other lanes around her then takes a sharp left and pulls into the opening of the alley.

Miller, who she accidentally threw into the wall despite him wearing his seatbelt, sits up and rubs his head as he looks around. “This isn’t the soup kitchen.”

“Small detour.” Clarke unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car, jogging up to the mural on the wall. There’s always been pictures of the superheroes painted across the city, but never one of a villain that looks like it’s meant to be a tribute. 

With the heroes, it’s usually their symbols, or even pictures of them, or their colors as backdrops for inspirational messages, but she’s never seen a painting done quite like this. Along with The Rebel’s signature face paint, his name is painted above it in red letters, and below it, the words _I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds_. Clarke’s eyebrows furrow at the message, and her eyes roam over the painting again.

“Why does that sound familiar?” Miller asks.

“It’s Oppenheimer,” Clarke explains. “The day they tested the atomic bomb, it killed a hundred thousand people. I just don’t know what this person meant when they put it under the picture.”

Clarke kneels down and looks at the paint closely. It’s definitely dry, but it still seems fresh. There’s no dirt on it, nothing that would suggest it’s been around for a while. Not even anything that would hint at the possibility that it’s been painted over to keep it looking bright. But the red paint, the red paint looks to be the same color as blood. 

From what she’s seen and read, The Rebel hasn’t done anything inherently drastic to anyone. Sure, he’s taken a lot of money, ruined people’s careers, thrown a few of them in prison, all the while causing a lot of havoc, but he hasn’t done anything that would warrant that quote being labeled on him. Clarke stands and looks at the picture as a whole again, then steps back and pulls out her phone. If this is new, she wonders if there’s more of them around the city that she just hasn’t seen yet. She takes the picture of the painting as a whole, then three separate pictures of the name, the face paint, and the quote, and sends them all to Raven. She’s not quite sure what her friends will be able to do with them, but at least they have them now.

Clarke and Miller get back in her car and Clarke pulls out of the spot where she parked. Illegally, Miller reminds her. After they’re back on their way to the soup kitchen, Clarke’s mind begins to reel with other possibilities that might help her find The Rebel. If Monty and Raven can get their program working soon, then she won’t have to go old-school detective to try and figure it out. Not that there would be much for her to find, that is. The Rebel is very good about covering his tracks and at not being seen unless he wants to be seen. Clarke sighs and leans her head against the headrest.

 _Hopefully_ , the soup kitchen will be able to give her some sort of information that will help her. She doesn’t know if they would be able to just out-right tell her who one of their donors are, but maybe if she can word things the right way, she’ll be able to persuade them to help her without letting on to why she needs to know exactly. Her plan is to not mention Charlotte, or her wish, at all. She just hopes what she has in mind will be enough.

By the time they get to the soup kitchen, Miller has already finished about half of his thermos of coffee, and Clarke is draining the last drop of hers. Usually, she wouldn’t drink this much coffee, but something tells her that she has another long day ahead of her. It’s not her fault that her body just starts to hate her after two almost all-nighters. 

When the two of them walk into the building, the smell of food hits them instantly, and there’s more people than she expected. She’s not entirely sure who she needs to talk to here, but a girl with blonde hair catches her attention and Clarke smiles as she makes her way over to her. She’s wiping down one of the vacant tables, so she doesn’t see them until…

“I didn’t know this was the kitchen you volunteered at, Harper,” Clarke says, and the girl turns around, grinning.

“Hey!” Harper wraps her in a hug, then Miller. “Yeah, this is the place. What brings you guys here?”

“Actually, we needed to talk to someone about the donors that this place has.” Clarke says, and Harper’s eyebrows raise.

“The donors?”

“Yeah, I have some questions about one of them.”

Harper’s eyebrows furrow together. “Well, our coordinator isn’t here today since they had to bring their kid to the doctor, but maybe I could help?”

“The thing is,” Miller begins, dropping his voice, “this wouldn’t be someone who’s necessarily on file.”

“Let’s go talk in the office.” Harper puts her rag into the bucket that’s beside the table then picks it up and walks towards the back of the room. No one watches them as they go, and Clarke settles on telling Harper the truth. She was the one who got Clarke into working at Arkadian Wishes in the first place, so she knows how situations like these go.

Harper opens the door to the office and flips on the light, placing the bucket of water down by the trash can. Clarke and Miller follow her in, with Miller closing the door firmly behind him, and Harper perches on the side of the desk, looking at them.

“So, what’s up?”

“I have this little girl who made a wish through Arkadian, and she wants to meet The Rebel.”

Harper’s mouth drops open, then she closes it, and opens it again. “What?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Miller says as he takes one of the empty chairs.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but she really wants to meet him.” Clarke sighs as she takes a chair, too. “She only has six months left, Harp, and I told her that I would find this guy. She also told me that her school had a field trip here a while ago and they told them that they always got a note signed TRK with the message ‘from your friendly neighborhood supervillain.’”

“And you were wondering if there was any record of that happening?” Harper guesses, and Clarke nods her head. “Well…” Harper slides off the side of the desk and walks around it, taking a seat in the desk chair. “There’s not much information on the donors since most of them choose to donate anonymously, but there’s always a record of what’s been donated.”

Clarke leans forward and rests her elbows on the desk as Harper sifts through one of the drawers. She pulls out a manila envelope, something Clarke hopes she doesn’t have to see for a long time after this wish is over, and starts flipping through the pages. Clarke can see log sheets for things, but she can’t make out what’s on any of the pages. It isn’t until Harper huffs and flips to the bag of the page, that Clarke notices something at the top of one of the pages. It just has a small, cursive _R_ in the top left corner.

“I think this is it.” Harper takes the paper out of the folder and holds it up to look at it before sliding it over to Clarke. “It has notes along with the dates and what was donated, but none of the other ones do. I saw it a while back when the coordinator was showing me how they keep track of everything. The other logs don’t have names on them just like this one doesn’t, but like I said, it has notes, too.”

Clarke takes the piece of paper and leans over so Miller can look at it with her. Like Harper said, there are notes written in with each of the donations, and just the one piece of paper covers nearly two years of them with more lines for future donations. The logs seem to be uniform, but the dates don’t leave a pattern behind, with some months having two donations when others don’t, but the donations themselves don’t vary too much.

_On time. Back door._

_On time. Back door._

_On time. Loading zone._

_On time. In memoriam._

The in memoriam note catches Clarke’s attention, and she zeroes in on the log. There’s nothing else written, but Clarke can’t help but wonder who the donation could have been in memory of. She scans the other lines, but that is the only one with that note next to it. So, she turns her attention to the dates and starts trying to map them in her head. There’s no set date that The Rebel uses, though.

“Can I take a picture of this?” Clarke asks, and Harper bites the inside of her cheek. “You know I won’t let anyone see it. I just need to find this guy for my girl.”

Harper looks at her for a second, and Clarke knows her friend well enough to know when she’s having trouble with deciding something. But then, “Yeah, sure. I trust you, and I want your girl to get her wish.”

“Thank you, Harper.” Clarke smiles at her friend and then pulls out her phone. “I won’t let anyone else see it. I promise.”

“I know.” Harper smiles, and Clarke takes some quick pictures, making sure to get the _R_ in the top left corner, and then hands the paper back to Harper who places it back in its spot then puts the folder back into the desk. “Do you need any help with finding him? I don’t know what all I can do, but,” the girl shrugs and Clarke smiles.

“We’ve been camping out in my living room trying to find stuff, so if you want to come and help then I’d love it.”

“Yeah, I just got roped in yesterday,” Miller chimes in. “Come join our search party.”

“I get off tonight around six, so I definitely will.” Harper grins. 

The three of them sit in the office for a little bit, catching up. They’ve all been pretty busy lately, but they’re supposed to be having their monthly ‘get together’ the following weekend. Though, with the fact that most of them have been crashing at Clarke’s, it won’t be much of a get together. Clarke fills Harper in on everything that’s been happening so far, and if her friend is surprised at the fact Clarke got all of the superheroes to agree to leave Charlotte’s wish alone, then she doesn’t show it.

In the end, the three of them say bye, with Harper promising to show up as soon as she can and Clarke telling her that she’ll make sure to have something cooked. Since tomorrow is Monday, everyone is going to have to go back to their apartments tonight, but that doesn’t mean they can’t get some more work done. 

When Clarke and Miller walk back into Clarke’s apartment, their friends are still sprawled across the living room, and Monty is asleep with his laptop tucked under his arm. Clarke laughs as she shakes his shoulder, and his eyes open then he yawns. With how much her mind has been thinking about over the past hour, she could use a nap herself. Her head hurts.

“How did the kitchen go?” Raven asks.

“Really well, actually.” Clarke takes out her phone and pulls up the pictures. “It’s the soup kitchen that Harper told us she started volunteering at, and she let us see the logs that are kept of all of the donations.”

“They actually kept logs of The Rebel donating to them?” Jasper asks, his eyes wide.

“I was surprised, too.” Miller takes a seat on a pile of blankets by the coffee table. 

“Can I see?” Clarke hands her phone to Monty, and Raven and Jasper gather around him. “These dates seem random.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Clarke nods her head. “But I don’t feel like it can be that random, you know?”

“I get what you’re saying, but…” Raven tilts her head to the side. Getting an idea, Clarke crawls over to her friends and picks her phone out of Raven’s hands. “Hey!”

“What if there is a pattern though?” Clarke looks at three of the dates, then pulls up the calendar on her phone, going to the first month. She finds the first date then counts four weeks and her finger lands next to the second date. So, she moves her finger over and counts another four weeks, and one to the left and she lands on the third date. “He leaves a donation every four weeks minus one day exactly.” Clarke looks up at her friends.

“What?” Miller raises one of his eyebrows.

“If you pick one of the dates and count four weeks, then you come to the day after his next donation. So, if you move your finger over to the left one, you’re on the day of the donation. If you count another four weeks and then move your finger over one, then your on the following donation. It’s the pattern.”

“How the hell could anyone ever figure that out?”

“I did,” Clarke shrugs. “But the whole point is to not _have_ anyone figure it out.”

“No way.” Raven takes the phone back from Clarke and looks at it. “Jasper, pull up your calendar.” Jasper does as he’s told, and then Raven starts reading off the dates to him. It only takes a minute, and when she’s done saying the dates, Jasper turns his computer towards Clarke.

“The next donation is going to be two weeks from Friday.”

“Two weeks from Friday?” Clarke leans forward and looks at the computer screen. Her friends have mapped out each of the drop dates, and Clarke can feel her pulse accelerate. “Oh my god.”

“With the notes on these logs, maybe we can figure out where exactly he’s going to drop it off. And what he’s going to drop off. It says either back door or loading zone.”

“We’ll still keep working on our program, though,” Monty chimes in. “It might come in handy.”

“Thank you.” Clarke looks around at her friends. “For everything.”

“What are friends for?” Jasper smiles at her. “Now, I need lunch.”

“Lunch sounds like a good idea, Goggles,” Clarke says, and everyone agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've loved hearing everyone's thoughts on this story! Do y'all have more?? :)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm sorry that I haven't updated in so long, but all of the time I've had to write has pretty much disappeared now that my college closed it's campus and I'm always home. This is the link to the thread I posted on Twitter explaining everything. I hope all of you can stick with me and I'll do my best to try and update as much as I can! Also, I'm sorry this chapter isn't as long as some of the others, but I hope you still enjoy it <3
> 
> https://twitter.com/XfanwonderlandX/status/1239711349565001731?s=20

For the next two weeks, Clarke doesn’t give up on trying to find more clues about The Rebel. Monty and Raven are still working on their program, too, and Harper has even taken to trying to find more information from the soup kitchen. Clarke can see that even though her friend doesn’t necessarily like the idea of a villain meeting a child, she knows that every child deserves to have their wish come true. No matter what other people may think. 

“Are you sure you’ll be able to catch him Friday?” Miller asks from his place sitting on the edge of her desk, and Clarke sighs. She leans back in her chair and stretches, turning to look at him.

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve asked that since you showed up. Are you starting to doubt me?”

Miller shrugs. “I’m just saying. I don’t think it’d be that easy.”

“The only ‘not easy’ part is if someone calls the cops on us for trespassing and I have to explain that the only reason why I’m there is because I’m trying to catch a villain for a little girl’s wish.” She raises her eyebrow at him. “You’re not going to turn me into your dad, are you?”

Miller snorts. “Of course, not. But—”

“But?” Clarke echoes.

“ _But_ , I think I should go with you.”

“Harper is already going with me, but if you want to come then the more the merrier.”

“I mean, if someone _does_ call the cops, then it might help to have the captain’s son with you.” Miller smirks at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Okay, that was a misunderstanding and you know it,” Clarke points out, and Miller nods his head.

“Uh-huh.” Miller pushes off the desk and stands. “But speaking of my dad, I told him I’d meet him for lunch.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yep. Just text me a time. See ya, Griffin.”

“Bye, Miller.” Clarke waves at her friend and he gives her a nod as he starts towards the elevators and Clarke turns back to her computer.

In the past two weeks, The Rebel has targeted a string of banks, stealing millions. Clarke expected Charlotte’s parents to try and change her wish, but they haven’t. It seems like Charlotte’s belief that he isn’t completely evil is also shared by her parents. _Maybe I’ll find out for myself_.

Now, she’s sitting outside the back of the soup kitchen with Harper in her passenger seat and Miller in the back. There’s no telling _when_ The Rebel would show up, so Clarke has stocked up on coffee and energy drinks and too many snacks for the three of them to eat in one night. They showed up just as the sun went down, and Clarke is determined to stay there as long as it takes. After a few hours, Clarke sighs and leans her seat back.

“Someone please tell me that this is going to work.”

“This is going to work,” Miller says, looking down at his phone, and Clarke cranes her neck around to look at him.

“Could you at least be a _little_ supportive?”

He shrugs. “I was the one saying that it probably wouldn’t be that easy.”

“We still have a while before the sun comes up,” Harper chimes in. “You saw the logs, he’ll be here.” She looks towards the back door and Clarke sits up to do the same. She thinks about what Raven told her, and tries to remain optimistic. She _has_ to be. 

The minutes go by, then the minutes turn to hours, and Clarke can feel herself beginning to lose hope. Miller dozes off in the backseat, and Harper’s head even begins to start drooping at certain points, but Clarke continues to sip on her coffee, not taking her eyes off the door. But, despite the amount of caffeine, Clarke can feel herself beginning to grow tired, too.

She’s not sure if she actually dozes off or not, but she jerks upright just as she sees movement at the edge of the shadows of the building. She reaches behind her blindly and swats at Miller, and when she makes contact with his leg she can hear him groan, which is enough for Harper to wake up, too.

“What?” She asks.

“What’s going on?” Miller asks.

“There’s someone there,” Clarke whispers.

“ _What?”_ Miller’s head pops between the seats. “Holy shit.”

There’s definitely a person there, but they don’t _look_ like The Rebel. They’re smaller, and very quick. Without a second thought, Clarke opens her door and Miller calls to her, but she ignores him. The person places a bag at the back door and turns, and Clarke sprints towards them.

“Hey!” The person turns around, the street light casting an orange glow across what’s visible of their face with the hood of their jacket covering most of it. When Clarke gets closer, the only thing she can see is their smile. “I have a question!” The hooded person pulls something out of their pocket and tosses it towards Clarke, who skids to a stop.

“Clarke!” Miller calls, and Clarke can hear her friends close the car doors.

When she turns around, both Harper and Miller are running towards her, and when she turns back to the hooded person, they’re already running towards the back fence. She watches as they jump and haul themselves over it, then they’re gone.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Miller stares at her, wide-eyed. “We don’t know who that was!”

“Was it not The Rebel?” Harper turns to look at the bag that’s been left by the door.

“It was a girl,” Clarke says, looking around her feet. “They tossed something at me.”

“Oh, so let’s look for it,” Miller says sarcastically, but Clarke ignores him. She notices a rubber ball a few feet away in the dirt with a piece of paper wrapped around it. She jogs over to pick it up.

_Nice try_ _  
_ _\- TRK_

“It’s a bag of money. So, it seems like the drop was still the same.”

“Fuck!” Clarke nearly throws the ball, but thinks better about it. She pinches the bridge of her nose then tosses it towards Miller and Harper. She doesn’t bother to look at them as she makes her way to her car and sits on the hood, resting her head in her hands. 

“Clarke?” Harper jogs towards her, but she doesn’t look up. “Hey, it’s not—”

“He knew,” she whispers.

“What?”

Clarke looks up, and Miller joins them. “He knew I was going to be here.”

“How could he have known?” Miller asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not like we were advertising this.”

“I don’t know, but he figured it out.” She runs a hand through her hair, closing her eyes. “Somehow.”

“Do you think he knows how many of us are looking into him?” Harper asks, and Clarke shrugs.

“I don’t know.” She pushes off her car and swears under her breath. “Now we’re back to square one.” She opens the driver door. “We’re going back to my place.”

On the ride back, Miller and Harper talk to each other, but Clarke opts to just think about everything on her own. _There’s no way he could have known. Could he?_ She didn’t tell Vera what she was doing, and she knows that Miller didn’t tell his father. If Captain Miller had known, he would have had his men staked out around the place. Even if she’s trying to find this man to fulfill a wish, he’s still a wanted criminal.

_Did he see us waiting there and choose someone else to do the drop?_ Clarke bites at her thumbnail as she waits at a redlight. There’s hardly anyone else on the road right now, aside from a few eighteen wheelers and a stray car here and there. _Did he see us the day we stopped at the mural?_ The light turns green, and Clarke moves the car. _It doesn’t make sense_. Of course, there was the possibility that he always used someone else to do the drops instead of coming himself, which would make sense. He couldn’t very well go to some places on his own. There was too much of a risk of him getting caught.

When Clarke pulls into her parking spot at her apartment complex, she still doesn’t say anything as she leads the way to the elevator. _None of it makes any sense_. There’s no way in hell he should have known what was going on, and yet he did. Either he had more eyes and ears over the city than anyone realized, or _someone_ told him something. And she didn’t know how the second was even an option.

When the three of them are in her apartment, she throws her purse onto the counter and opens the fridge. It’s nearly three in the morning and despite the fact that she can feel sleeping pulling at her, she doesn’t want to give into it. She doesn’t want to go to sleep, she wants answers.

“Hey, you’re back.” Raven’s head pops up from the couch. “Did he agree?”

“Asking that assumes that we talked to him,” Clarke grumbles.

“He wasn’t the one who left the bag,” Harper explains. “It was someone else. Clarke says it was a girl.”

“Because it _was_ a girl.” Clarke pulls a tube of cookie dough out of the fridge and shuts the door. She walks into her living room and throws herself onto the couch. “She threw a ball at me.”

“She threw a ball?” Raven asks, her eyebrows raised. 

“With this note on it.” Harper holds out the piece of paper and Raven takes it.

“Nice try? So he knew that you were going to be there?”

“Seems that way,” Clarke grumbles, pulling a piece of cookie dough off and eating it.

“How?” Her friend asks.

“I wish I knew,” Clarke grumbles. _How did he know? How many other people knew?_ _How many people does he have around the city?_

While her friends begin to talk about what they can do from here, Clarke gets caught up in her own head and begins wondering what happened. _How_ it could have happened. Raven and Monty have spent weeks working on their program, and Harper, Miller, and Jasper have been spending more time at her house than before trying to find any information they can about The Rebel. And they all made a promise to not say anything so they wouldn’t jeopardize Charlotte’s wish. 

Clarke stands up from the couch and heads back into the kitchen to put her cookie dough up before grabbing her car keys. It’s late, and even though she’s very tired, she needs to see something for herself. She calls over her shoulder, telling her friends that she’ll be back before they know it, but not giving them an explanation other than that. She jogs to her car and pulls out of her parking spot. She doesn’t know what exactly she’s hoping to find, but it’s worth a try.

When she pulls up to the mural, she checks the road before she gets out and jogs towards it. Thankfully, there aren’t that many cars traveling around the city, so she pulls out her flashlight. The mural looks almost sinister in the night time, and Clarke can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she looks at it. There’s nothing different from it than when she first saw it, but she can’t help but feel like there’s _something_ she must have missed.

She reaches out and runs her hands over the paint, feeling the rough texture of the bricks beneath her fingers, and lets out a long sigh. She can’t give up on trying to find this person. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she did. After she looks over the entire mural for a second time, she stands and backs up, shining her light up and down the alley. She moves from the opening of the alley to where she can see her car, and then towards the back. She doesn’t see anything else that would suggest there’s been any activity from The Rebel himself, but maybe coming back at night wasn’t the best idea.

Taking a deep breath, Clarke starts back towards her car and runs her hands through her hair. She needs to get some sleep and then look at everything again tomorrow morning. Just as she moves to open her door, something catches her attention on her windshield and she picks it up.

_Persistent, aren't you?_ _  
_ _-TRK_

Clarke sucks in a breath and looks around the street, but she sees nothing. _He was here_. _Or, was he? Did he have someone else drop it off?_ Her heartbeat accelerates as she gets into her car and starts back towards her apartment. _He’s toying with me_. Annoyance bubbles up in her chest as she drives, and she tries to breathe through it. She knows she doesn’t have much time to spend with this, but she’s going to figure it. She has to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder...do you have any ideas?
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke takes a break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everybody :)

A month goes by, and Clarke is nearing her last shred of hope. Over the past month, she’s searched _everywhere_ around the mural, up to six blocks away all around it, and hasn’t found anything. There’s bars, and clubs, and restaurants, the same as the rest of the city, but nothing she can see that says “villain hideout.” Monty and Raven finished their program, but with how many people there are in the city and the fact that they haven’t been able to find any good pictures of the villain, other than Clarke’s drawing of him, it might take a while. 

Clarke sighs as she pushes her chair back and rests her head on her arms that are propped up on her desk. She’s running out of time, and if she has to spend one more night walking around the city trying to find this guy, she might end up fighting him when she actually does find him. _How can he be this hard to find?_

“Oh, that doesn’t look good.” Vera’s voice comes from somewhere off to Clarke’s side and Clarke turns her head, still leaving it lying on her arms, to look at her. “Are you okay?”

Clarke takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I just...I don’t know how to find him. I’ve tried looking everywhere I can think of, and nothing.” She hasn’t told her boss about the stakeout, or the notes, or the fact that she’s been walking around the city late at night. 

“Maybe you’re doing too much.”

“What?” Clarke sits up. “I need to find him, and I don’t have much time. You know about her—”

“Yes, I do.” Vera sits on the edge of Clarke’s desk and places her hands in her lap. “What I’m suggesting, is maybe you need to take a step back and reevaluate everything, dear. Anyone who has ever faced a difficult problem has never solved it without taking a moment to breathe.”

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s barely been sleeping, or that she’s most stressed she’s ever been in her life, or the fact that she _really_ doesn’t want to let Charlotte down but it feels like she might...but tears begin to form in her eyes, and Clarke tries to blink them away. Since she took this on, she’s never let herself doubt her abilities to find this guy, but the more time goes by, the more she starts thinking about Charlotte and the promise she made her.

“But what if I can’t do it?” Her voice is rough, and despite her best efforts, there’s a lump forming in her throat that she can’t get rid of.

“Clarke,” Vera stands and wraps her in a hug. Normally, she would refuse to cry in public, especially at work, but after the last month and a half…“You are one of the most hard-working, determined young ladies I know.” Vera pulls back to look at her. “If anyone can find this villain and bring them into see Charlotte, it’s going to be you.”

Clarke takes another deep breath and nods her head. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Vera smiles. “Now, I want you to take the rest of the day off and try to take a breather.”

“But—”

Vera raises an eyebrow at her. “You will not get a different look at things if you stay here, so going home is mandatory. Okay? I don’t want to see you here until Monday.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

When Vera walks away, Clarke leans back in her chair and looks around at her desk. There’s papers, maps, sticky notes, and even a few coffee mug rings, but nothing that would suggest she’s found where this guy is. Sighing, Clarke stands up and stretches. She really wants to bring this stuff with her, but maybe she should try something else. It almost pains her to do it, but Clarke grabs her bag and walks towards the elevators, leaving everything else behind. If it comes down to it, she can always ask Raven to grab it for her, but maybe Vera is right and she is doing too much.

Instead of going home, Clarke decides to drive to her favorite frozen yogurt place and then to the park. She hasn’t actually seen much of anything during the daytime in a while, so this is a nice change of scenery. She props herself up against a tree and looks around at everyone through her sunglasses. It’s going to start getting even hotter soon, so maybe she could get everyone together and they could go to the beach for a couple of days. Assuming they don’t have any new cases.

As she eats, she finds herself looking at everyone. The parents playing with their children, the people going for jogs, others riding their bikes, everyone as she tries to see if anyone looks like they could be the rebel. Of course, there’s no telling what he could truly look like with the pictures they’ve been given, but at this point she feels like she has a good idea. _Dark curly hair, sharp jaw, cheekbones that most people would probably die for_...except there’s no one she sees now that looks like they fit that description. There are a few guys with dark hair, but it’s not curly enough. Then there are others with sharp jaws, but their hair isn’t the right color. Not that she knows what color his hair is _exactly_ , but she knows it’s not light brown.

Then, she feels it. It’s not something she can explain exactly, but it feels like someone is watching her. She’s felt like that ever since the note got left on her car when she went to the mural, and she can’t shake it. Of course, there’s probably always going to be _someone_ looking at her, where it’s a friend who she’s talking to or a stranger who glances at her, but now, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It’s probably nothing, and she’s told herself that multiple times, but it still happens. 

Clarke looks around the park, craning her neck to look around behind her, but she can’t make anyone out in the crowd. _I wonder if this is how he feels since he knows I’m looking for him_. Clarke turns around and eats another spoonful of her yogurt that’s beginning to turn into liquid, and then leans her head against the tree. Maybe she should take Vera’s advice and take a night off, give herself some time to rest. But, she doesn’t exactly have time, does she?

When she finishes off her yogurt, she gets up and throws the cup away, then looks around the park one last time. There’s still nothing she can see that should make her feel like she’s being watched, but she really feels like there’s something that she’s missing. 

As she makes her way back to her apartment, Clarke decides that she will go out for a walk tonight, but she’s not going to actively look for anything. If she happens to come across something that catches her attention, then of course she’ll follow it, but she’s going to try and listen to Vera. After all, Vera has been doing this a lot longer than she has. She’s not going to give up, because she made a promise, and she always keeps her promises. Especially ones made to her kids.

When she gets home, there’s a stack of papers in her living room that catch her eye, but she walks past them and into her bedroom. She does need to let her mind rest. So, she lays on her bed with her sketchbook beside her and just lets her hand move without drawing anything in particular. She’s not sure how long she’s gone without drawing anything, and she’s missed it. She’ll go back out tonight but, for now, she’s going to let herself take a moment. And hopefully it’ll be worth it.

  
  
  


When night time comes, Clarke pulls on her dark jeans and an old t-shirt and grabs her phone before walking out of the door. She took a nap after drawing for a bit, and maybe if she can get everyone over tomorrow she won’t feel so bad about taking the break today. She’s never been good at stopping something once she’s started, especially since she knows that there’s a deadline on this, so she might have looked over some of the papers before she left, too. 

The night is definitely a lot cooler than the day had been, and she enjoys it. And she finds that walking around when she’s not actively looking for _something_ is a lot more peaceful than what she was doing. Though, she can’t help the way she looks a little closer at dark alleys when she walks past them, wondering if maybe another mural has shown up, but there’s still nothing. That’s another thing, she’s looked all over this city for another mural, and she hasn’t found one. Just the one that’s tucked away she just happened to stumble on.

She finds herself walking in the direction of that mural, too, as she goes, so she’s not surprised when she stands on the other side of the street looking at it. She’s already inspected it more times than she cares to admit, but she keeps feeling like she missed something. _That has to be the only explanation, right?_ Clarke is taken out of her thoughts by her phone vibrating in her back pocket, and when she pulls it out, it’s a text from Miller.

_Raven said you got sent home. What happened?_

Clarke glances at the mural before responding.

 _Vera wanted me to take a step back and reevaluate everything from a different perspective_ _  
_ _Worried about me Miller?_

Her phone goes off almost immediately.

_Someone’s got to keep an eye on you_

Clarke snorts as she slips her phone back into her pocket then jogs across the street. She doesn’t go into the alley, but there’s enough light from the street lamps to where she can still see about half of the mural, even if it’s a little dark. Her mind begins to run with other possibilities, but Clarke shakes her head and keeps walking down the sidewalk. When she rounds the corner of the building, there’s music coming from inside the bar, and she slows. She’s gone inside to see if she can talk to someone a few times, but no one wanted to talk to her so she didn’t get very far. Without another thought, she walks into the building.

The lights are dim and yellow, and the music she heard playing isn’t very loud, but there’s not as many people in there as there usually is. Clarke walks up to the bar and takes a seat at one of the empty stools, but there’s a few people scattered across them. The bartender comes over, and Clarke looks up at her, smiling a little. 

“Mojito, please.”

The brunette raises an eyebrow at her. “With the look on your face, it seems like you need something stronger than that.” The girl turns around and pulls a bottle of Basil Haydens from the stack and a shot glass from under the table and pours her a drink. “Whiskey.”

Clarke laughs a little and picks up the glass, raising it in the air before tipping it back. She hasn’t had something this strong in a while, but mainly because she needed to try and keep her head straight. It burns as it goes down and her mouth waters when she puts the glass down. The bartender grins at her, and when Clarke makes a face, she laughs.

“There we go.”

“Do you always try to hurt your customers?”

“I don’t hurt them, I give them what they need.” Clarke tilts her head to the side as she looks at the other girl. “I’m Octavia. The owner.”

“Clarke.” She nods her head. “And you might be right.” She nudges the shot glass towards Octavia, and she fills it up again.

“So, what happened?”

“Why do you think something happened?” Clarke asks, then throws back the next shot. 

“I’m good at reading people, and something is on your mind.”

“Do you always try to get into the minds of your customers?”

Octavia shrugs. “Only when they need it.”

Clarke motions to the shot glass again and Octavia fills it up for a third time. “I need to find... _someone_ , and I can’t.”

Octavia raises an eyebrow at her. “Who are they?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke raises the glass again and throws it back, but this time is much easier than the first.

“So, how do you plan on finding them?”

“No idea,” Clarke sighs, and rests her elbows on the counter. Someone else comes up to sit on the other end of the bar and Octavia moves to get their order. 

She can already feel the alcohol beginning to affect her as she sits there, and she takes her phone out to see if there’s anything from her friends. There isn’t, which is what she expected, but she’s been checking it a lot lately. Whenever Octavia walks by her, Clarke leans forward.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.” She picks up a rag and wipes at a spot on the counter.

“Who painted the mural on the back of the building?”

“A friend.” Octavia glances at her.

“You had a friend paint a mural of a super villain on your bar? Don’t you think that it would keep some people away?”

“Well, the way I see it, he’s not a _villain_. He does things that others would be too scared to do, and if someone has a problem with that, then I don’t want them in my bar.”

“So, you don’t think of them as a terrible human being?”

“Who are we to decide whose terrible and who isn’t? Just because Iron Saber has the title of Superhero, does that mean they shouldn’t be held accountable for some of the people they’ve killed?”

“They never killed anyone,” Clarke mumbles.

“Okay, _almost_ killed.” Octavia leans on to the bar and looks at her. “The Rebel hasn’t killed anyone, yet people see him as something to fear, and why is that?” The two of them look at each other, and Octavia narrows her eyes. “He’s the one you’re trying to find.”

“I never said that.”

“But you didn’t deny it.” Octavia raises an eyebrow at her, and Clarke can’t help but feel like she’s seen her before. Of course, with the times she’s been in here, she probably has. “Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

Now, it’s Clarke’s time to narrow her eyes at the other girl. “Okay.” She leans in closer, and Octavia does the same. “It’s for a little girl. I can’t say who, or why, but I made a promise and I intend on keeping it,” she whispers.

“But you have no idea how you’re going to find him?”

Clarke sighs and leans back. “Not at all.”

“Hmm...that sucks.” 

Clarke snorts. “Tell me about it.”

A couple of more people file into the bar, and Octavia hands her a water before she moves to go pour their drinks. _At least Charlotte isn’t the only one in this city who feels like he’s not a bad guy_. Octavia stays pretty busy since it seems like more people are wanting to get a drink, and Clarke sits at the bar as she drinks her water. There’s nothing in the bar that would suggest there’s any other signs of The Rebel, and Clarke bites the inside of her cheek. She can’t exactly stay here and keep drinking, not that she really wants to. Octavia comes back and places a drink in front of her and Clarke looks up, her eyebrows knitting together.

“I didn’t order this.”

“On the house.” The girl shrugs, but before Clarke can ask her why she’s doing that, Octavia disappears to the other end of the bar. 

Clarke shrugs, looking down at the blue-green mixture and twirls it around with her straw. _At least it looks pretty_. She picks the glass up to take a sip, and something on the napkin catches her attention. It’s not the bar’s logo, but handwriting. When she picks it up, her heart rate increases as she looks at the words.

 _5839 Mount Pleasant Ave_ _  
_ _x_

Clarke can’t get her wallet out of her pocket fast enough to put money down for her shots, and then she takes another sip of her drink before putting the napkin in her pocket. She tries to look for Octavia to tell her thank you, but the brunette is nowhere to be seen. 

She takes off in a sprint towards the address, but it’s only three blocks away. She’s been on this street multiple times in the last month, but she didn’t see anything that was worth remembering. More bars, a few shops, a few restaurants, the same as the other places in the city. She takes to walking to the address so she can catch her breath, and when she reaches it, she realizes it’s another bar. It’s not like Octavia’s, because instead of dim yellow light bathing the seats and the bar, the lights are brighter and the furniture isn’t made of thick wood. Clarke smoothes her hair down and takes a deep breath. This is the first lead she’s gotten in weeks, and her heart threatens to beat out of her chest.

She pulls her shoulders back and holds her chin up as she presses through the doors, and looks around. There are about as many people in this bar as there was in Octavia’s but, when she looks at the people sitting in the bar in this one, she notices something. There’s a guy at the far end with his head angled away from her, but she knows who he is. He has black curly hair, and when he turns, she can see the sharp jawline and the dimple on his chin. She stills. _It’s him_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's him!! And all it took was one talk with Octavia ;) Also, I'm doing a re-watch of the show before season 7 comes out and I just watched Vera die and I wanted to cry
> 
> I don't know if I should say this, but the next chapter is already written (shocker, I know lol) and I'm going to try and start on chapter 7 today :)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twice in one week :)

Clarke doesn’t move for a beat, too caught up in the fact that The Rebel is  _ here _ and he’s  _ right there _ , but she realizes that she can’t just stand there staring at him, so she moves forward.  _ Where  _ she’s moving to though, she has no idea.  _ Should I just sit down next to him? Do I tell him that Octavia gave me this address?  _ Before she can second guess herself, she sits one seat over from him. 

When the bartender comes over to her, she orders a gin and tonic with a water and tries to force herself to not stare at him. He hasn’t looked at her yet, at least, not from what she’s noticed. So, she takes a sip of her drink and turns to look at him. Without the facepaint, and with better lighting, Clarke can see all of the things she got wrong in her drawings. Mainly the fact that he has freckles and the sight of them make her heart flip. 

“Do you have a staring problem?” His voice is deep, much deeper than she expected it to be, and it surprises her. She blinks at him a couple of times and he looks up from his drink to hers.  _ His eyes are dark _ . “So?”

“Uh, no.” 

“Okay, then.” He pulls out his wallet and throws some money on the bar and knocks back his drink, but before he can get up, Clarke reaches out and places her hand on his arm to still his actions.

“I need to talk to you.”

“No, you don’t.” He shakes her hand off, and Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together. 

“Yes, I do.” Clarke stands and pulls out some cash from her wallet, too. “Wait.”

“I don’t know who you are, but we’re done here.” The Rebel turns to walk away, and Clarke grabs at his arm again.

“Wait a fucking second!” Clarke’s voice rises and the man turns around to look at her, one his eyebrows arched in a crescent. “I said I needed to talk to you, and after the  _ hell _ I have gone through to find you, you’re going to listen.” She’s vaguely aware of other people in the bar looking at them, but she keeps staring at him. “I have searched for over a month and a half to find you. Do you realize how hard it is to find someone who doesn’t want to be found? It’s damn near impossible!”

“I am  _ tired _ from trying to track you down, but I made a promise to a little girl who, for some unknown reason, decided that  _ you _ were the person she wanted to meet most in the world. And I keep my promises to my kids. But within thirty seconds of meeting you, you’ve been nothing but a fucking asshole. So, you will sit the fuck down and listen to me tell you the reason why I’ve worked myself to the bone to find you because I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you walk out of that door right now.”

There’s a murmur going around the bar, and The Rebel’s jaw ticks as he looks at her.  _ I just threatened the most dangerous man in the city _ . The nerves she’s feeling are consumed by the anger that’s flaring in her chest. She can’t let him walk out of this bar. For Charlotte.

The Rebel rolls his eyes and grabs Clarke’s arm, and before she can say anything, he leads her out a back door and into a dark alley littered with trash cans.  _ Oh god.  _ When he lets go of her, Clarke crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. She may have pissed him off, but she’s pissed, too. She hasn’t come all this way for him to just disappear on her again.

“You’re the one that’s been stalking me.” He says, and he crosses his arms over his chest, too. “The one from the soup kitchen and the mural.”

“You weren’t at the soup kitchen.” Clarke narrows her eyes at him, and he smirks.

“You think so?”

“If you know who I am, then why try to blow me off?”

“Believe it or not, you’re not the first person to try and find me.” He looks down at her, his eyes shadowed. “What girl were you talking about?”

“Her name is Charlotte, she’s twelve.” Clarke lets her arms drop to her sides. “She has cancer, and the doctor’s gave her a few months to live. I work for Arkadian Wishes and I got assigned to her case. For her wish she wanted—”

“To meet me.”

“Yeah,” Clarke sighs, running a hand through her hair. “She idolizes you. She had a plushie made of you, and she asked me to draw a picture of you, and I promised her that she’d get to meet you so she started drawing you pictures—” Clarke breaks off as tears blur her vision, but she blinks them away. “Everyone has fought against her being able to meet you, but I made her a promise and I don’t break my promises. I’ve spent weeks trying to find you, my friends even made a facial recognition program even though we don’t have any good pictures, and then I stopped by the bar with your mural on it—”

“Octavia’s.”

“Yeah.” 

The villain smiles. “She gave you the address?”

“Put it on a napkin.” 

The guy nods his head. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll meet Charlotte.” He pulls out his phone and unlocks it. “What’s your name?”

“Clarke. Clarke Griffin.” She sniffles, reaching up to wipe her nose.  _ This is really happening _ .

“What’s your number?”

“Oh, 555-493-5857.” The Rebel taps away on his phone, and then Clarke’s phone buzzes. When she pulls it out, there’s a text.

_ Bellamy _

“Bellamy?”

“Nice to meet you.” He smiles a little. “Octavia is my little sister. I asked her to see if you were someone worth my time.”

“Well, that’s nice to know.” Clarke takes a deep breath and saves The Rebel’s number in her phone. “I won’t tell anyone about you.”

“I know you won’t.” The way he says it makes Clarke’s stomach tie itself in knots. “Where’s your car?”

“I didn’t bring it. I walked.”

The Rebel—Bellamy—looks at her for a moment then jerks his head, motioning down the alley. “I’ll bring you home. We can talk about the meeting.”

“Okay.”

Walking with Bellamy to his car, Clarke can’t stop looking at him out of the corner of her eye.  _ Is this really happening? He went from an asshole to offering to bring me home in .3 seconds. _ He leads the way to an old model pick-up truck, and Clarke has to bite back her smile.  _ Of course, he would be driving a vehicle like this _ . The door squeaks as she opens it and climbs into the passenger seat, and Bellamy slides into the driver seat. He doesn’t say anything as he pulls out onto the road, and when they stop at a redlight, Clarke looks around.

“Why do I feel like you already know where I live?”

Bellamy smirks. “Because I do.”  _ Well that explains it _ . “So, Charlotte. What’s she like?”

Clarke smiles, even though her heart starts to hurt. “She’s great. She loves coloring books, and she always tries to see what all she can get away with when her parents aren’t around.” Clarke laughs. “She loves action movies, and she’s really excited to meet you.”

“She sounds like an amazing girl.”

“Yeah.” Clarke props her elbow up on the door and rests her hand in her head. “They all are.”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything for a little while longer, until they turn down the road that Octavia’s bar is on. “Have you been working for Arkadian for long?”

“About six and a half months. I was supposed to be taking a break before I go to med school, but,” Clarke shrugs, “I really enjoy it.”

“I could see that.” They pull onto her street and Clarke realizes that she’s about to have to say bye to the man that she’s spent so long trying to find, but the fact that she has his number in her phone makes her feel a little better. “I’ll stop by to see Charlotte soon. Could you send me the details?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Bellamy pulls up in front of her apartment, and Clarke looks at it.  _ He really does know where I live _ . “Thanks for the ride.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

Clarke snorts as she opens the door and gets out, but she turns around and looks at him. “Soon?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy nods. “Soon.”

“Okay. And I promise no police or heroes will be called. They’ve already accepted that this is happening.”

“Let me guess, you yelled at them.”

“I didn’t  _ yell,”  _ Clarke huffs. “Just showed them how stupid they were being.” Bellamy snorts.

“I don’t doubt that. And, Clarke?”

“Yeah?”

“Get rid of the program.”

“Sure.” She gives him a little wave. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Bellamy does a little salute as she shuts the door and then she makes her way up to her room. 

When she’s finally in her bedroom, and after she sends Bellamy the information for Charlotte, Clarke kicks off her shoes and shimmies out of her jeans before throwing herself onto her bed. After  _ so long _ of looking for The Rebel, she finally found him. And it was all because she happened to go into his sister’s bar where she was tasked with trying to figure out what Clarke wanted.  _ I’ll unpack that tomorrow _ . She rolls over in her bed and buries her face in her pillow.  _ Now _ , she can sleep. The Rebel promised that he would visit Charlotte.  _ Bellamy promised _ . And that’s the thought that follows her as she drifts off to sleep.

  
  


When Clarke wakes up, orange light is shining in through the curtains, and she squints at it.  _ What time is it? _ She buries her face back into her pillow and yawns, willing herself to get out of bed. She needs to tell her friends about what happened last night, and that The Rebel wants them to take the program down. They probably won’t be happy about it, since they spent a long time working on it, but he isn’t someone that Clarke wants to upset.

She rolls out of bed and pads her way into the bathroom, wondering if she should grab something to eat before she showers, but when she decides that she should, she finds her friends sprawled out in her living room.

“Hi.” She raises her eyebrows and looks around at everyone. “Make yourself at home?” 

“Thanks, we did.” Jasper stretches on the floor. “We thought you died.” 

Clarke laughs and looks at everyone else. “I was asleep.”

“Uh-huh.” Miller looks around her and towards her room. “Is there someone else here?”

“Uh, no.” Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together at her friends. “Why would you think that?”

“Because we caught you on camera last night.” Monty grins. “Our program works.” 

“And we saw you get into someone’s truck, but we couldn’t see them.” Raven chimes in, smirking at her. “So, either you got laid or you found The Rebel. Or both.” Raven’s eyebrows raise. “Was it both?”

“No, it wasn’t  _ both _ ,” Clarke huffs, walking towards the kitchen. “I did find him, and he agreed to meet Charlotte.”

“That’s awesome!” Jasper calls from the living room.

“What else did he say?” Miller asks.

“Well,” Clarke tilts her head from side to side as she reaches into a cabinet to grab a bottle of water. “Not much. But he wants the program to be taken down.”

“What?”

“He can’t be serious.”

“We spent a long time on that thing!”

Clarke turns around, looking at her friends. “I know, and I told him that. But he isn’t exactly someone I could say  _ no _ to.”

“Well, what if you just don’t bring it up again and we keep it running?” Monty asks. “Then he won’t have to know.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised that no one in the department has figured that out,” Miller says. “It would probably be better if you took it down anyway.”

“So, what are we supposed to do? Take something we put our sweat and blood and tears in and just...get rid of it? Who the hell does he think he is?” Raven looks at her from over the back of the couch. “Not happening.”

“Maybe we should.” Monty looks at Raven. “If Miller thinks the police will find out about it then it would probably be best if we did take it down. That doesn’t mean we have to throw it out, we can still hold onto it. Besides, The Rebel was found and that’s what we needed it for, right?”

Raven scowls as she turns back around in a huff, and Clarke can see her cross her arms over her chest. “Fine. We can take it down.”

“Thank you.” Clarke leans against her counter and looks over at her friends. She has no idea how long they’ve been there exactly, but what she does know is that she’s hungry. “Now, who wants food?”

For the rest of the afternoon, all of them lounge around her house, and while her friend’s take to asking her questions about who The Rebel is, she doesn’t have much to give them.  _ Where is his hideout? I don’t know. When will you see him again? I have no idea. When is he going to go see Charlotte? He said soon. How did he know about the stake out at the soup kitchen? I have no idea. _ Eventually, they run out of things they have to ask, and Clarke allows herself to relax a little more. She doesn’t know when she’ll see him again, or  _ if _ , and it’s not like she can keep going to Octavia’s bar like a stalker. 

At some point, Clarke begins to wonder just how  _ soon _ Bellamy meant when he told her, so she starts looking at her phone. She knows she probably shouldn’t text him, since it would probably be annoying on his end, but since it’s Charlotte she’s talking about...decision made, Clarke opens her phone and pulls up the message thread with him.

_ How soon is soon? _

She looks the message over, wondering if she should try to say it in a different way, but this is short and sweet and to the point, so she decides to send it anyway. It’s not like she’s going to ever use this number for anything else, so when it’s all said and done she can delete it. She puts her phone back down by her side and tries to focus on the movie that’s been put on but, surprisingly, it doesn’t take it long for her phone to vibrate.

_ Talk to her later tonight _

Clarke sends back a quick text telling him that she will, but instead of putting her mind to rest, all she can do is wonder just how he’s going to be able to get into the hospital and to her room. There’s cameras, security, and a bunch of personnel who would happily call the cops as soon as they see him, and she begins wondering if maybe she should be at the hospital with him. She texts him again, asking if she should be there in case someone tries to keep him from meeting Charlotte, but he doesn’t answer.  _ He probably knows a way to get to her room without me being there. It’s fine. Should I tell Charlotte’s parents? I haven’t talked to Vera yet, either. _

“Clarke!” Raven nudges Clarke’s shin with her foot, and Clarke looks at her.

“Huh?”

“You were glaring at your coffee table. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if I should tell Charlotte’s parents about The Rebel agreeing to meet her. And I haven’t told Vera either.”

“Do you think her parents would try to stop him from seeing her?” Miller asks, and Clarke shrugs.

“They seemed to be under the same impression as Charlotte. You know, unless they didn’t have the heart to tell their daughter that she couldn’t meet him and just decided that it wouldn’t be able to be done, but I don’t think that’s it.”

“I’ve met them, I don’t think it’s like that either,” Raven says, nodding a little. “But Vera seemed on board with the whole thing, not to mention that she was really confident that you could do it.”

“So, I should tell her that I found him last night?”

“Unless you want to wait until The Rebel has actually held up his end of the agreement.”

Clarke sinks back on the cushions of the couch and bites the inside of her cheek. There’s no telling  _ for sure _ how many people are okay with Charlotte and The Rebel meeting, and who could possibly be working against the whole meeting as a way to keep it from happening.  _ Like how someone must have told him about the stake out _ . Sighing, Clarke runs a hand over her forehead and gets up.

“I’m going to take a shower and think.”

While she’s in the shower, she tries to go through the different outcomes that could happen if she tells everyone that the meeting is going to happen, and soon, and what the repercussions could be if she doesn’t tell anyone until after it’s already happened. In the end, as she’s finishing up, she decides that she’ll go to the hospital, whether Bellamy responds to her or not, and she’ll talk to Charlotte’s parents herself instead of just leaving them out of the loop or trying to talk to them over the phone.

After everything that’s happened to get this meeting to take place, and knowing that Charlotte is going to be beyond excited to see The Rebel, she’s not going to let anything happen to ruin it. So, as she gets out of the shower, she decides she’ll get dressed and head to the hospital. As she’s drying off, her phone vibrates against the counter and she looks over at it.

_ I’ll be at the hospital in twenty _

Clarke’s eyes widen as she looks at the text, then she types out a quick reply

_ I’ll meet you there _

Clarke rushes into her room and changes as quickly as she can, then skids into her living room, causing everyone to look at her. Miller raises his eyebrows at her, and she looks at them.

“The Rebel is going to be at the hospital in fifteen minutes, and I need to be there.” At that, everyone jumps up.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Clarke feels like letting all of them follow her might not be the best idea, especially since she’s not sure how Bellamy is going to take it, but since they all helped her find him, then how could she say no exactly? 

“Okay, but I can’t have all of you coming up with me. You’ll have to wait in the hall and maybe keep watch in case someone wants to try and crash the meeting.”

“Will we be able to meet him at least?” Jasper’s eyes are wide as he asks, and Clarke smiles at him a little.

“I don’t know, but we can always ask. Right?”

“Yeah, we can.” He bounces on the balls of his feet. “Let’s go.”

The entire ride to the hospital, there’s a lot of talking going on, and when they pull into the parking lot, it keeps going. Clarke looks around, wondering if she can see where The Rebel may be, but since the sun has gone down, there’s a lot of shadows for him to hide in. Then, her phone buzzes.

_ The rest of your group? _

The tips of her ears redden.

_ They did help me find you _

“You have his phone number.” Raven’s voice makes Clarke jump, and she turns to look at her friend. “And after hiding that you really expect me to believe that you  _ didn’t _ get laid?”

Before Clarke can respond, Raven smirks and turns around, leaving Clarke staring after her. With one more look around the parking lot, Clarke jogs towards the front doors where Raven is and everyone else follows after her. At this point, she knows the way to Charlotte’s room like the back of her hand, and she leaves Monty, Jasper, and Miller out in the waiting room while Raven follows her to Charlotte’s room.

When they walk into the room, Charlotte is laying in her bed with headphones on, but she smiles when they enter.

“Hey, Charlotte.”

“Clarke! Raven!” The little girl sits up, and smiles. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Clarke and Raven look at each other, and they grin. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Charlotte’s eyes widen.

“Yeah,” Clarke nods. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.”

When Clarke exits the room, she pulls out her phone and sends Bellamy a text.

_ Where are you coming in at? _

Her phone vibrates immediately.

_ The front door _

“Great,” Clarke whispers, and then she starts towards the first floor.  _ Because he couldn’t come in when did, right? _ She gets a few weird looks, but no one tries to stop her or say anything, so she keeps going. She jogs through the front doors of the hospital. There’s no one that she can see, at least not immediately, but when she looks off to the side, she sees someone moving. 

The Rebel comes from around the corner of the building, and Clarke’s heart rate picks up. His black hair is wild, and the whites of his eyes look bright surrounded by the face paint, but the black clothes he’s wearing blend into the shadows. Clarke’s voice is caught in her throat as he walks up to her, and when he stops, she has to tilt her head up to look at him.  _ The mural didn’t do him justice _ .

“You’re not scared, are you?” 

Clarke smirks and looks him up and down. “No. I’ve seen you without your costume, and it's not scary.” 

She can see a corner of his mouth turn up in a smile, and his eyes drift from hers to the doors of the hospital. “Should we?”

“Yep, let’s go.” Clarke turns back towards the entrance, reaching into her back pocket to put on her Arkadian Wishes I.D. badge, and Bellamy falls into step beside her. “You couldn’t have found a better way to get in than the front doors?”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Clarke laughs lightly and shakes her head. “Good point. I guess.”

When the two of them walk through the doors, there’s no one who reacts immediately, and Clarke refuses to look around to see if anyone’s noticed them yet. When they pass by the front desk, there’s a startled gasp from the girl sitting at the front desk, but she doesn’t move to stop them and Clarke continues to walk The Rebel towards Charlotte’s room.

“Monty, Jasper, and Miller are in the waiting area, and Raven is already in the room.” Clarke tells him when they get onto the elevator. “Charlotte’s not the only one who wanted to meet you.”

“I didn’t know it was going to be a party.”

“Like I said, I couldn’t tell them no.”

“No, I get it.” The Rebel turns to look at her, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. “I’ll meet them after Charlotte.”

“Thank you.” Clarke blinks at him a couple of times, kind of shocked at how nice he’s being. The elevator dings, and Clarke turns back to them to watch them open. When they do, they’re faced with three security guards, and she can feel Bellamy straighten beside her.

“That’s far enough.” The guy in the front says, and Clarke instinctively moves in front of Bellamy. “I don’t know what you were thinking—”

“The Rebel is here to fulfill a wish for Arkadian Wishes, and you have no authority to stop it.” Clarke’s voice is hard as she talks, and all three of the men look at her. “The heroes have agreed to this meeting, and Captain Miller of Arkadia P.D. has agreed, too. If you have any problems you can take it up with him, and he will tell you exactly what I’ve just told you. His son is also sitting in the waiting room.”

Clarke walks forward, and when the guards don’t move, she raises an eyebrow at them. “Do not make me call my boss.”

“Let them through!” Miller appears behind the men, and they all look at him. “Captain Miller is on his way down here and if you do not let The Rebel through, you will have to answer to him directly.”

Clarke bites back her smile, and even though she can see the anger flash across the security guard’s faces, they move away from the doors of the elevator, and Clarke walks forward, feeling Bellamy moving after her. She gives Miller a wink when she walks past him, and he smirks at her then nods his head at The Rebel before turning back to look at the security guards. As she walks past the waiting room, she smiles at Monty and Jasper, and their eyes are wide as they watch her walk past, and Jasper waves at Bellamy.

There are more looks and worried murmurs going on from the people around them, and Clarke wonders if they’re bothering Bellamy or if he’s experienced enough of it to where he doesn’t pay attention to it. Though that thought doesn’t really help her thoughts. When they finally reach the door to Charlotte’s room, Clarke can see Raven off to the side talking to someone, who could be Charlotte and her parents, and then she looks at Bellamy.

“You ready?”

He nods once. “Time to meet my biggest fan.” There’s a slight tilt to his lips, and it makes Clarke smile.

She nods, too. “Okay.” 

Taking a deep breath, she opens the door to the room, and walks in, and The Rebel closes it behind them. When Clarke looks around the curtain, Charlotte grins at her, but then her eyes move towards Bellamy and she lets out an excited squeal.

“Oh my god! It’s you!” Charlotte moves to her knees on the bed. “It’s really you.” 

“Hey, kid.”

Clarke moves to the side of the bed and Charlotte looks at her for a beat before throwing her arms around her neck. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Charlotte.” Clarke wraps her arms around her, and she tries to blink away the tears forming in her eyes. 

When they pull apart, Charlotte turns back to Bellamy, and the smile she has on her face makes Clarke’s heart swell.  _ She got her wish. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She got her wish :)
> 
> Okay, everybody, so I have a lot going on with college right now and with only two weeks left before finals I'm struggling to try and get everything done. I really hate to say this, but I don't think I'll be updating next week. I'm almost done with chapter 7, though, and I'm hoping that I'll be back the week after next. I've been spending a lot of my time trying to write and not doing what I need to be doing to make sure I get through this semester so taking a break seems like what might be best for me. I've even taken off work for the next week, too. But, with all that being said, if I do end up finishing chapter 7, then I'll take a minute to post it, but I'm not sure how much I'll be able to do. I really appreciate all of the love all of you have shown this fic, and if I'm being honest I wasn't expecting it to go past 5 chapters, but I realized I couldn't fit everything into this story that I wanted to if I stuck with that lol So, if you stick with me, then I promise I'll be back soon :)
> 
> Even if I don't update, if you ever need someone to talk to or a pick me up then you can always reach out to me on tumblr or twitter and I'll be there to talk to you! <3
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! I'm back :) I really was not planning on being away for so long, but a lot has happened in the past few weeks that I was not expecting. However, even though I've been stressed out beyond belief, I can say that I'm finally back! And I have chapter 8 already written :) The plan (right now) is to finish chapter 9 by Thursday and then chapter 10 by next Tuesday, and then this story will be done! I'm hoping to make up for my absence by getting the rest of the chapters out quickly, but I still have things I need to do and I never know how much time I'll get to write, but I'll do my best!
> 
> Now, all of that being said, let's read!

In the days following the meeting, Clarke has a lot of meetings she has to attend and a lot of questions she has to answer. When the meeting between Bellamy—The Rebel—and Charlotte ended, Captain Miller was standing in front of the hospital with the heroes demanding to be let in, but the older man wasn’t budging. He had talked to Clarke multiple times over the past month and a half, always reassuring her that he would do everything in his power to make sure that nothing came between Charlotte and her wish. And Clarke was grateful for it. In the time it took for her to get from the doors of the building to his side, The Rebel had disappeared, but the crowd that came to see him stayed long after.

Clarke shoulders open the door to her apartment, sighing when she’s out of the light of the hallway, and then sags against the wall after it’s closed.  _ How many times do I have to tell these people? _ She’s heard the same questions over, and over, and  _ over _ again since that night, and it’s giving her a headache.

_ How did you get into contact with him? _

_ Did the two of you talk about anything other than the wish fulfillment? _

_ Are you able to contact him? _

Eventually, Clarke began wondering if she should start making up ridiculous answers to the questions, and she did for one of them, but it only earned a snort from Raven and a small smirk from Vera while everyone else around the room glared at her. Did she have Bellamy’s number? Yes. Was she ever going to use it again? No. Well, she didn’t exactly have a _ reason _ to use it. If another child decided that they wanted to meet The Rebel then, of course, she’d text him and let him know, but she wasn’t going to use it for anything else. She had questions for him, but so did everyone. 

She walks into the kitchen and throws her bag on to the counter, then pulls a beer from her fridge. It’s been weird coming home and not having anyone there after weeks of there pretty much always being  _ someone _ , but she didn’t mind the quietness. As she turns to walk into her living room, she notices her curtains are flowing from the open window, and dread chills her veins. It’s only for a moment though, until:

“I hope you don’t mind. I decided to let myself in.” The Rebel’s deep voice comes from somewhere in the shadows, and Clarke huffs as she moves to turn on the lamp near her couch.

“I can see that.” As light fills the room, she notices that Bellamy is sitting off to the side of the room on a bean bag chair that Jasper had brought over. The sight of him in normal clothes without any face paint is a little weird, but the way the corners of his lips curl up when he looks at her drives that feeling away. “Do you have a habit of breaking into people’s homes?”

“In my defense, you left your window unlocked.” 

“And you didn’t close it?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at him, and he gives her a crooked smile.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it.” Clarke snorts and just when she’s about to walk over to close it herself, he beats her to it. “But, I did have a reason for coming over.”

“Okay,” Clarke takes a sip of her beer and sits on the armrest of her couch. “And that reason is?”

“I wanted to thank you.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at her, his dark curls making his features even darker. “I haven’t had any heroes or cops busting down the door to O’s bar, or to The Dropship, looking for me.”

Clarke shrugs. “Not for their lack of trying.”

“They’ve been giving you a hard time?”

“You don’t know?” Clarke raises an eyebrow at him and, even though it could be the lighting, she could swear a slight blush appears on his cheekbones.

“Okay, I may have heard a few things.” He removes his hands from his pockets and crosses them over his chest. “Why haven’t you told them anything?”

“It’s none of their fucking business,” she answers immediately, and Bellamy smirks.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“They keep wanting to know if I’ve had any contact with you since. What we talked about when I did find you.  _ Where _ I found you. If I have any way to contact you.” Bellamy’s eyebrows raise as he looks at her, and then it’s her turn to smirk. “I told them that of course I knew how to contact you. I could just throw a bottle of face paint into the street and you’d come running.”

Bellamy bites at his bottom lip for a moment before ducking his head and laughing, and Clarke feels a surge of pride knowing that she was able to make the great super villain laugh. When he looks at her again, there’s something in his eyes that makes her voice catch in her throat, and she sips on her beer to try and get rid of it. 

“Would you like to go get a drink?” He glances at the bottle in her hand. “Well, a  _ different _ drink?”

Clarke blinks at him a couple of times, wondering what brought this on, but she decides not to think about it as she says, “Yeah, sounds fun.”

“Good.” Bellamy’s smile widens, and Clarke takes a bigger sip of her beer before getting up and setting it on her counter and grabbing her bag. When she turns to look at him, he’s followed her towards the kitchen, but he’s still standing a few feet away from her.

“So, are we taking my fire escape or do you actually want to use the door?”

When they get out onto the road, Clarke expects to see his old pick-up truck somewhere, but she doesn’t, and when she looks at him, he runs his hand through his hair. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t plan on coming here so I don’t have my truck.”

“It’s fine, I’ll drive.” She pulls her car keys out of her bag and leads the way to her car. It’s only when she’s sitting in the driver’s seat and Bellamy slides into her passenger seat that reality really hits her.  _ The Rebel is in my car. Right next to me. And we’re going to go get a drink _ . “You sure this is smart? I don’t know if they have people following me or not.”

“They don’t.” Bellamy turns around in his seat and looks out of her back window before looking at her. “I’ve never seen them.”

Clarke hums as she pulls out onto the road, but a thought pops into her head. “Have  _ you _ been following me?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Let’s call it a feeling.” She glances at him, a small smile playing on her lips, and she notices his cheeks turning slightly pink again. 

“For a bit, yeah. When I learned that someone was trying to find me, and that they even found out about the soup kitchen. My curiosity won out over the rational part of me.”

At his admission, Clarke looks at him in the rearview mirror, her eyebrows furrowing together. “How did you know about the soup kitchen?”

“I have ears everywhere.” He smirks, and that only fuels Clarke’s curiosity more.

“Where are we going exactly?”

“Could you park on this road?” He points to a spot and Clarke nods her head.

“Sure.”

She takes a left and pulls into an empty parking spot on the side of the old state capitol and they both get out of her car. Even though the night is cooler than what the day had been, she notices that it’s not as cool as it was whenever she was walking around nightly.  _ I’m not exactly looking forward to that heat. _ Once her car is locked, she looks around, putting her hands in her back pockets.

“So, where are we going?”

Bellamy comes to a stop beside her, and he’s close enough to where she can see the freckles on his face clearly. “Want to know why you were never able to find me?”

“Oh, uh,” Clarke looks around the street and, to her surprise, there’s no one around. “Definitely.”

“Follow me.” Bellamy jerks his head down the sidewalk and Clarke doesn’t hesitate to follow him when he starts walking.  _ Why does he want to show me this? _ She follows him up the block a little, and then when they pass by a gap between the buildings, she doesn’t expect him to grab her hand and lead her into it. 

It’s not large enough to be considered an alley, necessarily, but it’s big enough to where Bellamy can walk down it without having to turn his body. The street lights disappear and even though she knows that nothing will happen to her, she still ends up squeezing Bellamy’s hand since she hasn’t let it go yet. He squeezes her hand back, and just as she begins to wonder just how long they’re going to have to walk, Bellamy stops in his tracks and Clarke has to brace her free hand on the wall to keep from falling into him.

When he turns, she notices that there’s a door in the brick wall, and her eyes widen.  _ How long has that been there? _ Bellamy raises his hand and knocks on it three times, then pauses, then knocks two more times. Honestly, she’s surprised it’s not “Shave and a haircut.” They’re not waiting long, and the door opens slightly, but Bellamy’s frame blocks Clarke from seeing much. It only takes a second, and then the door closes only to be opened more.

Bellamy turns and smiles at her a little, then releases her hand and motions for her to go in before him. She looks from the door to him, biting the inside of her cheek, but the feeling of his hand on her lower back and the urge to know what’s on the other side propels her forward. It’s only when she’s inside and she can feel Bellamy standing behind her that she hears the sound of more people talking, and the realization hits her.  _ It’s his actual hideout. _

Bellamy’s hand finds her lower back again and Clarke walks down the hall. She’s not sure who opened the door for them, since this hallway isn’t much bigger than the alley they just walked down, but there’s lights hanging from the ceiling that cast a yellow glow onto the stones surrounding them. In the distance, she can see that the hallway ends at a set of stairs, and she takes a deep breath as she nears them. 

When the hall ends, Clarke looks down and sees that the room looks like a lounge. On the left, there’s a bar with liquor lining the wall, and then on the opposite side is computers and a large oval table. In the middle, there’s a couch and a few scattered bean bag chairs that Clarke raises an eyebrow at, but then she starts down the stairs, holding onto the railing as she goes. 

No one looks at them for the most part, except a few guys who look past Clarke and over her head to Bellamy, She doesn’t recognize anyone as she moves down the stairs, but she also doesn’t try to stare either. She doesn’t know what to think of this exactly. She went from spending  _ weeks _ trying to find the biggest super villain in the city to somehow gaining his trust enough to where he felt comfortable enough inviting her into his hideout and it makes her head spin. 

Bellamy guides her towards the bar, and the bartender smiles at her as she takes a seat on one of the stools. “You must be Clarke,” he says, holding out one of his hands for her to shake. “I’m Lincoln.”

“Nice to meet you.” Clarke looks from the guy to Bellamy, then around the bar area. “If I order a mojito you’re not going to give me whiskey, are you?”

Lincoln chuckles as he shakes his head. “No, that’s Octavia’s department.” He and Bellamy nod at each other and Lincoln passes Bellamy a whiskey neat before getting to work on her drink. 

Clarke turns towards him, and he leans onto the bar as he looks at her. “I’m surprised you brought me here.”

“Why is that?”

“You don’t know me. I could have a tracker on me and the heroes could be on their way here right now.” She’s joking, obviously, but out of the corner of her eye she can see a few other guys sitting close to them cast glances at her, but Bellamy ignores them.

“The bar blocks most signals, for one, but,” he takes a sip of his drink, “I know enough about you to know that if you wanted the heroes to find me, then you would have told them already.”

“And how do you know about me?”

Bellamy smirks. “Like I said, I have ears everywhere.”

Before Clarke can ask what he means by that, Lincoln places her mojito in front of her and she takes it, swirling her straw around. “All of the nights I wandered these streets, and I never would have guessed the entrance to your hideout was between the old state capitol and a bank.”

“That’s the point.” Bellamy grins at her, and it’s one that causes her heart to flip.  _ Yeah, I guess it is _ . She takes a sip of her drink as he takes one of his, and then she turns around in her seat to look around some more. Bellamy looks with her, and then she can see him look at her out of the corner of her eye. “Do you want a tour?”

A smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “I’d love one.”

Since it’s mostly just the one room, they go through everything quickly and Clarke learns the names of some of the other people in the room.  _ John Mbege _ , she’s told his last name since there’s another  _ John _ but apparently he goes by Murphy _. Atom. Monroe. Colin. Myles. Derek. Connor _ . All of them smile at her and shake her hand, and Monroe congratulates her on being able to even track down Bellamy in the first place, but Clarke tells them that she wasn’t the only one who had a hand in it. 

Bellamy shows her the computers that have cameras all over town, but when she asks about the ones in the corner that are faced towards dark doors, he winks at her before motioning for her to follow him towards a door off to the side of the bar. There’s nothing labeling it, but something about it makes her believe she already knows what it’s going to be before it’s even opened. The doorknob isn’t as shiny as it probably once was, and Clarke can see the wear on it as Bellamy reaches out to turn it. 

Inside, the room is dark wood and soft light, and much like the rest of the place, it reminds her of Octavia’s bar. There’s a bookshelf lining the far wall behind a large wooden desk and a leather armchair, and Clarke realizes that his office is a lot more normal than most people would probably expect.

“And here I thought your secret hideout would be in a cave,” she teases, and she can hear Bellamy snort behind her.

“Electronics and damp places don’t really work for me.” Clarke gives him a smile as she looks around the room. “But, now you see it. The secret hiding place of The Rebel.”

“How did you even find this place?”

“When I was a teenager I ended up finding it. It used to be a speakeasy.”

“Does Octavia know she has competition?”

“Trust me, she makes more money than us.” Clarke walks over to his desk and looks at some of the shelves. There’s a picture that catches her attention, and she realizes that she’s seen it before. A lot. It’s of Bellamy in his costume with his arm thrown around Octavia’s shoulders, and they’re both smiling at the camera.  _ Of course the girl is Octavia _ . And then the picture next to that one is a polaroid she took just a few nights before. It’s Bellamy and Charlotte, with the little girl having on her own face paint and she’s holding up her Rebel plushie with Bellamy’s arm wrapped around her. Remembering how happy Charlotte had been, and how good Bellamy was at interacting with her makes Clarke’s heart flip. 

“You know,” she begins, turning back to look at him, “I’m still not entirely sure why I’m here.”

Bellamy takes a seat in an armchair, and Clarke moves to sit on the couch. He takes a sip of his drink while she sits down, and Clarke sinks onto the cushions. She doesn’t believe that he brought her here just for a drink, there has to be some reason.  _ Right? _

“You’re here, because you’ve shown me I can trust you.” Bellamy rests his glass on the armrest, and Clarke watches him. She expected him to always be on edge, but he seems genuinely relaxed. Even though she’s pretty sure he could move quickly if he needs to. “And you aren’t like the others who have tried to find me.”

“How many people have tried to find you?”

“More than most probably realize.” The corners of his mouth turn up as he looks at his glass. “Though, their reception wasn’t as warm as yours.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow at him. “If you consider that a warm welcome, I would hate to see what the others were like.”

“I may have scared them a little. Though you had no problem yelling at me.”

“Well, after the month and a half I had, you would feel the same way.” She takes a sip of her mojito then tilts her head to the side as she looks at him. “You keep telling me that you have ears everywhere, but I still want to know how exactly you were always a step ahead of me.”

“I’ll admit, you surprised me when you figured out my schedule for the soup kitchen, but I’d like to hear what you think first.”

Clarke presses her lips together for a moment before sipping on her drink again. “Okay.” She sits up straighter. “The only explanation that I’ve come up with is that you have to have somebody on the inside.  _ Who _ that is, I have no idea. The only people who knew about the soup kitchen were my friends, and I don’t think Monty and Jasper would keep that they’re working for you a secret, especially given the fact that they were excited to meet you. Raven would have dragged you to me herself. Harper was the one who helped us find the papers, but she wouldn’t have kept it from us. Especially not from Monty. And, Miller…” She trails off, memories flashing in her mind. 

_ But that doesn’t mean it’s him. _

_ Maybe he isn’t as bad as people think he is _

_ The way he looked at the drawing _

_ How adamant he was about going with me to the soup kitchen even though he kept saying that it wouldn’t be that easy... _

“What the fuck,” she whispers. She looks at Bellamy who’s already gazing at her, a knowing look on his face.  _ No. It can’t be. Can it? Would he really… _ “Nathan Miller, the police captain’s son,  _ that’s _ how you knew?” She stands, running her hand over her forehead. Different emotions bubble in her chest, and it feels like the room is spinning. “ _ What the fuck _ .”

Before she can think about it, she pulls out her phone, but Bellamy’s hand comes to circle around her wrist, and she looks at him. She hadn’t heard him get up. “He didn’t know.”

“How was he unknowingly helping you?” 

“He has Murphy’s number, to let him know what he hears about The Rebel,” Bellamy explains. “He nearly caught me one night, but he let me go. And after that I sent Murphy to keep an eye on him. As soon as he learned about what you were doing he told Murphy, but I wasn’t going to believe that a little girl actually wanted to meet me as her wish, so I told Murphy not to tell me about it unless something happened. Then, you found out about the soup kitchen. So, I sent—”

“Octavia.” She finishes for him, and he nods his head.

“Yeah, but I was watching.” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “And then I might have followed you home.” Despite the tightness in her chest, Clarke smiles a little. “From what Murphy has told me, Miller did his best to make sure that I understood how important this was to you. But I couldn’t meet you until I was sure you were serious.”

“Then why try to blow me off in the bar?”

Bellamy gives her a lopsided grin. “I’m an asshole.”

The response catches Clarke off guard and she barks out a laugh. “Wow. I think you’re the first person to ever admit that about themselves.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt me to admit it.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t.” Clarke sighs then moves towards the desk, sitting on the corner of it.  _ This night turned out a lot differently than I expected _ . She mulls everything over in her mind, but before she can even begin to unpack the box of information that Bellamy just gave her, something else comes to mind. “What does the  _ K _ stand for?”

“King.” When Clarke blinks at him, he smirks. “It’s a running joke between me and some of the guys. We’ve known each other for years, and when we were younger I guess you could say I was like the head of our group. We got into a lot of shit.”

“So, you’re The Rebel  _ King _ .” The corner of her mouth turns up. “You must have a big ego.”

“Not as big as the heroes,” he snorts. “Their heads are so far up their own asses that they don’t realize sometimes they’re doing more harm than good.”

“Octavia did make a convincing case about Iron Saber.”

“And Father Prime just wants people to believe that he’s a good humanitarian when in reality he’s been making under the table agreements with the military.” Bellamy shakes his head, his eyes darkening. “And they call me a bad guy.”

Noticing that he’s getting frustrated, Clarke decides to change gears. She walks back to the couch and pats the area beside her, and Bellamy hesitates for a moment before leaning against the other side, looking at her. “I’ve been told a lot over the past six weeks that maybe you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.”

“And do you believe them?”  _ After that night in Charlotte’s room, how could I not? _

“Yeah, I do.” She smiles as she turns to face him fully, pulling her legs up and crossing them. “So, I want to get to know you.”

A soft smile makes its way onto Bellamy’s lips, and the way he looks at her makes her feel warm.  _ Maybe it’s just the alcohol _ . “Okay.” He repositions himself on the couch, pulling one of his legs up and tucking it under him. “What do you want to know?”

_ Well that’s a loaded question, isn’t it? Then again, I am the one who said I wanted to get to know him. _ Clarke bites at her bottom lip, but when she realizes that she doesn’t have to put much thought into it, she says, “What kind of shit did you get into when you were younger?”

Bellamy’s smile widens, and he laughs a little. “Uh, it was a lot of the usual stuff. Tagging, running out of grocery stores with beer hidden in our clothes, we moved one person’s car from a handicap spot and out into the road and busted their windows because we knew the person shouldn’t have been parking there. I used to be pretty good at poker, and even beat Cage Wallace bad enough he tried to get the cops to bust the place.”

“You’ve gambled against Cage Wallace?” Clarke gapes at him, and he grins.

“He’s a shit player.”

“Huh.”

“Of course, I didn’t start robbing banks or anything until I was older.”

“What made you decide to start?”

“I love the chaos.” He grins at her, and suddenly it’s almost like she can see him as a rebellious teenager. Running down dark alleys and having his own secret hideout. “Not to mention that the people I’ve robbed and swindled and ‘ruined their lives,’ are all terrible.” 

“Like Carl Emerson?”

Bellamy gives her a look. “Especially Emerson.”

_ So, Octavia was right. He is a vigilante. _ “What about—”

A knock comes from the door and both of them turn to look at it as someone opens it. On the other side is a guy with brown hair and very blue eyes, but he doesn’t really give Clarke a second glance as he looks over at Bellamy.

“Emori says that there’s been more surveillance on the soup kitchen, but there hasn’t been any sign of the heroes.”

“Aside from the one who actually works there,” he mutters, and that catches her attention.

Clarke looks at Bellamy, her eyebrows knitting together. “A hero works at the soup kitchen?”

Bellamy glances at her. “Uh, sometimes. But, they didn’t seem to know about me dropping things off. It’s an arrangement between me and the head of the place.”

“Well, I didn’t tell them about the soup kitchen. How did they find out about it?”

“Like me, they have ears, too.” Bellamy looks from her to the guy in the door. “Clarke, this is John Murphy. Murphy, this is Clarke.”

Murphy slides his gaze towards her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to block your friend’s number.”

“Then I’ll just have to get your number and give it to Jasper,” Clarke smiles, and Bellamy chuckles. The Rebel stopped by to say hi to Jasper and Monty before he left, and Clarke couldn’t stop laughing at how many questions Jasper had for him. She could only imagine what’d he do if he was given a number. 

Murphy’s eyebrows raise up. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d think bringing Miller in would be a good idea,” Bellamy says, looking at her. “I never thanked him for helping me.”

“I’m surprised you needed help to begin with. Usually no one is even able to see you.”

“Yeah, I, uh, got caught up.” Bellamy doesn’t meet her eyes, but Murphy snorts from the doorway and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Uh-huh. Tell her what happened. What caused you to almost get caught by the damn police.”

Bellamy looks at her, smiling. “I saw an abandoned kitten in the alley.” Clarke giggles, trying to imagine The Rebel stopping in an alley to pick up a little kitten. “Miller just happened to run down that same alley. I don’t know why, but he let me go and then told everyone that it was empty.”

“All because of a kitten,” Clarke laughs, and Bellamy shrugs.

“I couldn’t leave it.”

“No. You couldn’t have.” They smile at each other, and the little voice in the back of her head tells her that he’s going to be full of surprises.

“Alright, I hate to break up this little party, but we have stuff we need to talk about.” Murphy walks into the room with a glass in his hands, and Clarke realizes that she hadn’t seen him leave. 

“I should probably get going anyway.” She looks from Murphy to Bellamy. “I think I need to talk to Miller.” 

“Yeah, I think so, too. But I was serious about the meeting.”

“I’ll make sure to let him know.” Clarke smiles. “Thank you for the drink.”

“Anytime.” Bellamy stands, and holds out his hand to help her up from the couch. “I’ll have Lincoln walk you back to your car.”

Lincoln leads the way down a hall that Clarke hadn’t noticed earlier, and then the two of them emerge onto the sidewalk about two blocks away from her car.  _ If that’s where that hall leads, I wonder if there’s more. _ The city lights cast shadows down other alleys and some of the sounds would usually make her jump, but after spending a while with Bellamy, she’s not as worried anymore. Not to mention she has Lincoln walking beside her. 

“Who did the mural on the side of Octavia’s bar? It’s really good.”

“Thank you,” Lincoln smiles down at her. 

“Ever thought about adding more to the city?”

He shrugs. “Only if he wants me to. He didn’t particularly want the one on the bar, but he pretty much gives into whatever Octavia wants.”

“I could see that.” She smiles. “What about the quote?”

“Well, the thing is, whenever The Rebel takes down someone, they’re not the only ones affected. You know? They have families, people associated with them who end up being dragged into the problems that that one person has caused.” Lincoln runs a hand over his head. “At first, he was torn up by it. I mean, if a corrupt politician gets exposed then their kids are affected, too, but you have to make the choice to expose someone who is wronging thousands of people or let them keep doing what they’re doing because of a handful of others.”

Clarke nods a little. “So, not exactly worlds.”

“No, not exactly.” Lincoln looks down at her. “It’s a heavy weight to bear, and even though the quote may not seem like it fits, he was the one who asked for it to be put on there.”

They round the corner of the block that her car is on, and she looks up at the sky. It’s cloudy, but she can still see the moon shining through some of them. She wonders if Bellamy is going to go out tonight, and if she might wake up the following morning with him making headlines again. To her surprise, Lincoln opens her car door for her and tells her to have a safe drive, but just as she starts her car, her phone goes off. When she looks, it’s a text from Bellamy and it makes the butterflies in her stomach stir.

_ Maybe I should drop in more _

She smiles and messages him back.

_ Except next time, maybe use the door _

Her phone buzzes immediately.

_ Now where’s the fun in that? _

Clarke shakes her head as she pulls out onto the road and towards her apartment.  _ What have I gotten myself into? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because that's what every girl wants, for someone to sneak into their house and scare the shit out of them :)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another night out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 8, as promised :)

That following weekend, Clarke decides to visit Octavia at her bar. Since it’s a Friday night, there’s a lot more people in the bar than there was the week before, but Clarke still finds the brunette behind the bar serving drinks. When she catches sight of Clarke, Octavia grins and waves at her and since there’s no empty seat at the bar, Clarke decides to just find an empty spot towards the edge of it. 

Octavia comes towards her and leans over the bar, giving her a hug. “Hey, you’re back.”

“Yeah, I am.” When they pull apart, Clarke smiles. “I found that I couldn’t stay away.”

“I could use the company.” Octavia smiles and steps back, resting her hands on her hips. “What do you want to drink?”

“Umm…” Clarke’s eyes slide over the bottles behind the bar. “Surprise me.”

“I can do that.” 

As Octavia gets to work on her drink, Clarke thinks about everything that’s happened in the past week. Last Friday night was the meeting with Charlotte and The Rebel, and then Bellamy showed up in her apartment Wednesday. Now, it’s Friday again and even though Bellamy hasn’t dropped in on her, they may have texted a little bit. But none of that would have happened if it wasn’t for Octavia.

“I wanted to thank you,” Clarke says, leaning forward. “You made a little girl very happy.”

“I think I made more than just her happy.” Octavia looks up and winks. “How’s the job now?”

“The endless meetings seem to be over, thank god,” Clarke sighs. “But my boss said that she’s going to give me a little bit of time before she gives me another case.”

“Is that something that you want?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I spent a lot of time on this one, but she already sent me home last Thursday and I don’t want to spend even more time just sitting around my desk when I know that there’s people who have wishes that need to be fulfilled.”

“I understand that.” Octavia places an orange and yellow drink in front of her. “Do you think more people will ask for him?”

“I think some will. Especially since now they know it’s something that can be done.” Clarke smiles and takes the drink. “What’s this?”

“I call it ‘The Blake’.” Octavia smirks. “I have to go help some other customers but when I come back I want to know what you think.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Clarke stirs the drink around with her straw and then takes a sip of it. It’s sweet, and it tastes good, but after she’s swallowed it she can taste the alcohol on the back of her tongue and her eyes widen. _How can something pack that much of a punch?_

As she sips on her drink, she pulls her phone out and checks to see if she has any messages from her friends. She hasn’t talked to Miller about having a meeting with The Rebel yet, but she has a plan to ask him to come over tomorrow so they can order takeout. 

Octavia comes back and leans onto the bar. “What do you think?”

“I think I understand why it’s called ‘The Blake’.” Clarke laughs. “It’s good.”

“Thank you.” Octavia grins. “So, have any hot dates lately?”

Clarke inhales her drink and covers her mouth with her hand as she coughs. She knows what the other girl is talking about, but she doesn’t know where she got that label from. “It wasn’t a _date_.”

“I don’t know. Drinks and a dimly-lit room seems to have all of the makings of one.” 

Clarke can feel her face heat up, and she looks down at her drink, wiping up the water rings with a napkin. “If you call someone showing up at my place without warning and scaring me half to death a date then maybe I should talk to Lincoln about what he’s doing,” she mutters, and when she looks up, Octavia’s eyebrows are raised.

“You know about me and Lincoln?”

Clarke smiles. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

This time, it’s Octavia’s turn to blush, and a soft smile makes its way onto her lips. “We haven’t been together for very long, but I’ve known him for years.”

“He’s a lucky guy.”

Octavia ducks her head. “Thank you.” Someone calls her name and she excuses herself, and Clarke finishes off her drink. Before she can put much thought into it, she pulls her phone back out.

_“The Blake” is the best drink I’ve ever had_

She locks it and sets it on the counter, but it doesn’t take long for a response. 

_She was wondering when you were coming back_ _  
__She makes the best drinks out of anyone I know. Just don’t tell Lincoln I said that_

Clarke smiles as she texts him back, and begins to wonder if Octavia would make her another surprise drink for her to try. 

_I don’t know, from the way he talked he might be inclined to agree with you_

A thought pops into her head and she bites at her bottom lip. They haven’t texted _that_ much since Wednesday, since it’s only been two days, _but he did talk about dropping in more_. Before she can stop herself, she sends another text

_What would I have to do to get you to come have another drink with me?_

She turns her phone upside down and places it on the bar, trying not to let her heartbeat quicken as she waits for a response. It’s only been a couple of days, but she likes talking to him. And she really enjoyed their last drink. Even if he did break into her apartment. 

Octavia comes back with a neon green and blue drink and places it in front of her. “I call this one ‘TKO’.”

Clarke chuckles at the name. “Are you sure you want to knockout your customers?”

“It’s not bad, it just had a little bit of a kick.”

“Like The Blake?” Clarke asks with an eyebrow raised, and the other girl grins at her.

“Exactly.”

Clarke continues to smile as she takes a sip of her drink, and she has to admit, it’s not what she expected. It leaves a tingling sensation on her tongue after she’s had a sip, and it lingers. “Why do I feel like I’m your guinea pig right now?”

“Don’t worry, Bell’s already tried them.” Octavia winks then moves to talk to the group of people that just walked in the door, so Clarke looks at her phone.

 _I’m in a meeting right now, but if you’re still a Octavia’s when I get done then I’d love to join you_ _  
__I have a feeling my sister would have a field day_

Clarke smiles around her straw and sips on her drink as she texts him back.

_She’s already asked me if I’ve had any hot dates recently_

Once her text sends, Clarke can feel excitement humming through her veins like electricity. She and Bellamy haven’t flirted…much…since that night, but there’s definitely _something_ going on. She thinks.

_And have you?_

Her heart flips.

_Like I told her, if someone breaking into my house and scaring me is considered a date, then we have very different views on what the word ‘date’ means_

“Oh, that is a giddy smile.” Octavia appears with a sly smirk on her face. “Let me take a guess—”

“Is it really a guess if you already know?”

Octavia shrugs. “Fair point.” She rests her hands on her hips and looks at her. “Is he coming?”

“I don’t know, he says he’s in a meeting.”

The other girl rolls her eyes. “Those meetings go on _forever_. The last time he had a meeting before we were supposed to grab something to eat I nearly died from starvation.”

“Oh.” Clarke looks down at her phone and she can’t help the sinking she feels in her heart. Which is silly, because she hasn’t known him for long at all so, she eyes her drink in front of her. _Maybe there was even more alcohol in that first drink than I thought_.

“Hey, look at the bright side. You could always drop in on him now that you know where he is.”

Clarke raises her eyebrows. “I don’t think he’d like that.”

“Why not?” Octavia leans onto the bar and lowers her voice. “He showed you the entrance for a reason, Clarke. If you want to use it, then I say use it.”

Clarke sits back in her seat and thinks about it. Honestly, the thought that he would _want_ her to stop by never even crossed her mind. It’s his hideout. His headquarters. It’s hidden for a reason. _But, he did show me where it was…and he didn’t tell me that I_ couldn’t _stop by to see him…_

“I’ll think about it.”

Octavia shrugs. “Okay. Since he knows you’re here, he’ll probably try to end the meeting early anyway.”

“He’s the leader, isn’t he? Couldn’t he just end it now?”

“Not with Murphy,” Octavia snorts, and then she throws a towel over her shoulder and picks up the empty glasses beside Clarke on the counter.

For the next hour and a half, Clarke sips on the drinks that Octavia leaves for her in between helping customers, and she decides to text Miller. She’s going to have to talk to him at some point, but she hasn’t had the energy to do much after getting home the past few days because people still wanted to ask her the same questions about Bellamy. She chews on the end of her straw as she unlocks her phone.

_We’re doing dinner tomorrow_

_I’ll get the food and you can get the movies_

He responds almost immediately.

_I’m sorry, you’re not my type_

Clarke snorts, and another text from him pops up.

_We doing comedy or horror?_

She types out a quick response, telling him to choose whatever he wants to watch since she’ll probably pass out anyway, and then tucks her phone in her back pocket. She’s been at the bar for nearly two hours, drank more than she has since the last night she came here, and even though she _really_ wants to see Bellamy, she also really wants her bed. She yawns as Octavia walks up, and the other girl smiles at her.

“Tired?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long week. And I still don’t think I’m recovered from all of the time I spent walking around this goddamn city.” She yawns again, and the brunette laughs.

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” Reaching out, Octavia shoves on her arm a little. “Go get some sleep and I’ll tell my brother he’s an idiot.”

“In his defense he said he would come _if_ I was still here after he got out of the meeting. So, I wasn’t really expecting him to come anyway.”

“He’s still an idiot for not hog-tying Murphy and coming here, but I get it. Here.” She leans forward and pulls out a pen and a napkin. “Text me. Maybe we can get some food sometime and I can tell you every embarrassing thing my brother has ever done.”

Despite the deep tiredness that seems to have taken root in her bones, Clarke smiles. “I will. Have a good night.”

“You, too!”

And with that, Clarke pushes out of the bar and into the night. It’s a little humid, but the fresh air goes a long way to help clear her mind. Clarke takes a deep breath and looks around. There’s more people out on the street than she’s seen in a while, but it’s probably because the college students are celebrating the end of finals.

She walks to the side of the bar, wanting to look at the mural again. At this point, it’s almost like it’s something she _has_ to do since she’s done it so much. Anytime she’s near the bar, she finds herself drawn to it. _Lincoln did a good job_. She doesn’t know how long it’s been there, but it doesn’t look like it’s experienced any sort of weathering. She honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he repainted it every few weeks.

Once she’s looked over it all once, with her eyes lingering on the quote, she turns to start back towards her apartment, when arms wrap around from behind her.

Panic surges through her, and she scratches at the hand that’s covering her mouth, and the person picks her up and hauls her back away from the streetlight and the rest of the people walking around the streets. She tries to jab at the person with her elbow, but she knows it’s not doing anything. The person hasn’t made a sound.

“If you scream, I will not make this easy for you.” The person says in her ear, and Clarke freezes. _That voice_. “I’m going to let you go, and we’re going to have a nice conversation.”

Trying to get her breathing under control, Clarke nods her head, and the person that’s holding her turns her around so she’s facing the end of the alley, then they let her go. _There’s no way for me to get out of here unless I go past him_. She moves to look at them, very aware of the fact that there’s a brick wall behind her.

“What do you want?”

“I just want to talk.” Iron Saber holds his hands out in front of him, like he’s trying to show her that he’s harmless, but she knows enough about him to know that’s not true. Hero or not.

“You’ve seen me almost every day this past week and you couldn’t have had a conversation with me then?” Clarke crosses her arms over her chest and raises her chin, even though she can feel herself wanting to run.

“This is a little more private.”

Clarke raises and eyebrow and leans over to look around his shoulder. “A dark alley is private?”

“Private enough.” Iron Saber steps forward, clasping his hands behind his back, and Clarke forces herself to remain where she is. “Now, I’m going to ask you a few questions, and if you tell me what I need to know, then we’ll act like this never happened. Okay?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“No,” the hero smiles. “You don’t.” The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and Clarke can feel her palms beginning to sweat. “How did you get in touch with The Rebel?”

“Like I said, he found me.”

“Yes, I know what you’ve told the others, but I want you to tell me the truth.”

“I am telling you the truth. He knew someone was looking for him and he left a note on my car.”

“How did he know it was you who was looking for him?”

“I feel like you’re under the impression that he and I are best friends when in reality I haven’t talked to him since he saw Charlotte.”

“Cute. Now, answer my question.”

“I didn’t ask him. I just assumed he had his way of finding things out like the rest of you do.”

“So, you think he has ears inside of Arkadian Wishes?”

“I have no idea. Like I said, I just assumed he had some way of figuring things out.”

“Okay. How did you contact him?”

“You know—”

“Don’t give me that shit. We’ve already established that we know what you told your boss, but you’re going to tell me the truth.”

“I don’t what you think the _truth_ is, but you can either take what I give you or leave it.”

Iron Saber sighs, and looks down at the ground. Fear chills her blood, but Clarke doesn’t look away from the man in front of her. When he looks back at her, he shakes his head.

“Now, Clarke,” he _tsks_ at her, “I thought you agreed you would tell me what I wanted to know and then we would part ways.” Iron Saber steps closer, and Clarke lifts her head up to look at him.

“Well, if you want someone to tell you what you want to hear, you should find someone else.”

Iron Saber’s hand darts out, and fists in the back of her shirt, grabbing her hair in the process. He yanks his hand back, and a startled whimper makes its way out of her mouth before she can catch it.

“Tell me what I want to know, and you can leave.”

“You already know everything,” she grits out, and to her surprise, Iron Saber smiles.

“You like him, don’t you?” His smile widens, but there’s nothing warm behind it. “The Rebel managed to find a way to gain your sympathy. But I hate to break it to you, he,” Iron Saber yanks her to the side and points at the mural, “does not care about you.”

“You sound like someone who hasn’t gotten enough attention from their crush. Are you sure you don’t like him?”

Iron Saber’s free hand comes up and wraps around her neck, and Clarke clutches at it. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Gathering everything in her, Clarke smirks at him. “Go fuck yourself.”

The hero growls and shoves her backwards. The ability to breathe is a relief, but it’s short lived when she hits the brick wall behind her and there’s a sickening _thump_ when her head makes contact with it. The edges of her vision blur and the world looks like it’s turning on its side before she realizes she’s on the ground. A searing pain splits through her skull and Clarke reaches up to touch it, only to have something warm coat her fingers.

The man kneels before her, but she can’t focus on him. It’s like he’s moving all around her, even though she knows he’s just standing there. “I told you not to make this harder on yourself.” Before she can register what’s happening, the ground disappears from below her and Iron Saber presses her against the wall, but Clarke tries to keep her head from leaning against it.

“Let’s try this one more time—"

There’s a sound that Clarke can’t place, and more things that she’s having a hard time trying to understand. Actually, she’s having a hard time just trying to keep her eyes open. She finds herself sliding back down to the ground, but this time her arm isn’t able to keep her propped up. The more she tries to keep her eyes open, the more her vision blurs, and she would swear that she can see a glowing light and a familiar voice.

Then everything goes black.

It feels like she’s on a boat, and it’s rocking in the waves. Her eyelids feel like lead weights as she tries to open them, but she can see through them enough to make out the stars above her. _Am I on a boat?_ She knows she’s moving, but she can’t tell where she’s moving from or to. A face appears at the coroner of her vision and when she tries to look, a pain sears through her head and her eyes sting. And the darkness comes back once again.

She can’t hear very much going on around her, but she is aware that there’s _something_ happening. There are voices mingling together, and the sound of things moving around, different weighted footsteps. Her eyes move behind her eyelids, and the pain returns, though it’s not as bad as it was before. She wills herself to move, for any part on her to move, but she feels paralyzed. Like there’s a weight on top of her. But, instead of fighting it, she accepts the fact that her body otherwise feels comfortable, aside from the pain splitting her head in two, and settles down. Letting the voices lull her to sleep.

When she opens her eyes, she realizes that she’s in a dimly lit room, and despite the fact that she knows it’s nearing summer, there’s a fire burning beside her. But she shivers all the same. It feels like there’s cotton in her mouth, and the pain is still in her head, but her eyes don’t hurt as she moves them to look around. The room is made of dark wood, and there’s a fan hanging above her, but she doesn’t hear the voices she heard earlier. At least, she thinks she heard voices earlier. _Where am I?_

“Clarke?” A familiar, deep voice catches her attention, but when she tries to look towards them, the pain in her head intensifies and her vision goes white. She sinks back into the pillow under her and closes her eyes, but a hand comes and rests on top of hers. “It’s okay, don’t move too much. You took a pretty big hit to the head.”

“I—” she tries to speak, but her voice comes out like a strangled groan. And when she tries to wet her lips, it does nothing. She tries again, but it still doesn’t help, and then she can feel something plastic being pressed against the bottom of her lip. She closes her mouth and when the water reaches her, she’s pretty sure she’s never felt something so amazing. She sips as much of it as she can before she has to breathe, and when the straw disappears, she wants it to come back.

When she opens her eyes again, Bellamy’s face comes into view and he smiles at her. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Her voice is still weak, but at least she can form words now.

Bellamy kneels beside her again, and his hand comes back to rest over hers that’s laying on her abdomen. His thumb runs across hers, and the warmth of his hand seeps into her skin. “First you yell at the city’s biggest super villain and then you decide to take on one of the most dangerous heroes a week later? If you keep this up, we might need to get you a costume and some face paint.”

Clarke smiles. “Vigilante.”

“What?”

“You. You’re a vigilante. Not a villain,” she murmurs, and her eyes begin to close again.

“Hey, we can’t have that.” Bellamy squeezes her hand and she opens her eyes to look at him. “You gotta stay awake with me. Okay?”

“Do I have a concussion?”

“I’ll have to get Lincoln in here to talk to you about that but, yeah.” His eyes soften, and his thumb never stops running over hers. “You took a pretty bad hit.”

At the mention of it, Clarke can hear the sickening _crack_ when she first made contact with the wall and she flinches at the memory. “Don’t remind me.”

“I’m sorry.” He looks away from her then, and even though it takes a lot of willing her arm to move, she reaches out and brushes her fingers through the curls on his forehead. They feel like silk as they fall through her fingers, and she can see the corners of Bellamy’s mouth tun up.

“How did you find me?”

“I was on my way to the bar. I hadn’t heard from you so I was hoping you’d still be there. I was walking on the other side of the wall when I heard someone call your name.”

“Someone called my name?” Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together as she tries to remember what happened, but it’s not much. It’s like she can feel her mind wanting to piece things together, but it’s too tired.

Bellamy squeezes her hand one more time before he stands, and her hand slips out of his. “We can talk after Lincoln has looked at you, okay?”

“Mhm.” She doesn’t try to nod her head, since she knows that it would probably lead to just being in more pain, and Bellamy gives her a small smile as he walks out of the room, the door closing with a soft _click_ behind him.

Her mouth feels dry again, and she still doesn’t know where she is exactly. She’s starting to sweat with the blanket over her, so she pushes it off and moves it to the side, feeling better instantly. She wants more water, but she doesn’t know where it is exactly, and she wants to try and stand, but she’s pretty sure she might black out if her head leaves the pillow. Before she can think about much more, there’s the sound of muffled voices and a lot of footsteps, then the door to the room opens.

“Clarke!” Raven calls, and Clarke smiles when her friend’s face comes into view. “God, you’re an idiot.” Raven practically seats herself on top of her as she pulls her in for a hug.

“I’m okay, Rae,” Clarke smiles. “Just a bump on the head.”

“Right,” Raven snorts. “A bump.”

“A bump was when I hit my head on the light pole in the park,” Jasper chimes in, and Clarke looks around Raven at her other friend. Monty is standing next to him, with Miller next to him. “I didn’t get a concussion from that.”

Clarke smiles. “Point made.”

Raven moves away so the rest of them can give her a hug, all murmuring that they’re glad she’s okay, but she can’t help wondering where Harper is. She looks around the room a little bit more, and she sees Bellamy, Lincoln, and Murphy, but not her other friend. Raven must notice her looking, because she sits on the arm rest next to her head and looks down at her.

“Harper isn’t here,” she says softly. “She’s, uh, doing damage control.”

“Damage control?”

“Alright, before we go into it, I think I need to see how you’re doing.” Lincoln steps forward with a bag in his hand, and sits down on the coffee table. “Can you sit up?”

Clarke nods her head a little, trying to ignore the pain, and tries to push herself up. She feels weak, and tired, but she’s not sure how long she’s been out. Monty steps forward and reaches out, giving her something to hold onto, and Raven supports her back as she finally sits up straight. After a couple of breaths, Clarke nods her head, and Lincoln pulls out a little flashlight, leaning forward and shining it in her eyes.

“Okay, what’s your name?”

They go through the questions to make sure she’s coherent, and then Lincoln explains that she now has stitches on the back of her head, and she can feel the heavy bandage that’s been placed over them. He promised her that he didn’t shave her hair, though. Then, once she’s been told everything that she’s going to need to do for the next week or so, she’s given some ibuprofen and she turns to look at everyone else. _Octavia isn’t here, either_.

“So, where’s Harper?”

Monty looks away from her, and she can see something similar to pain coloring his face. Clarke looks around at everyone, and Raven’s lips press together. It’s Bellamy who walks towards her, and he takes a seat on the coffee table like Lincoln.

“Clarke, what do you remember?”

She blinks at him a couple of times, then takes a deep breath as she tries to align her thoughts. “When I got off work I went to the bar. I wanted to thank Octavia for helping me, and she gave me a couple of drinks to try. We talked, I texted you, I texted Miller. I was at the bar for…” she trails off, trying to remember the specifics, but the pain in her head is starting to return despite the medicine.

“Two hours,” Bellamy says, and Clarke nods her head.

“Yeah, two hours. Then, when I was leaving I stopped by to look at the mural.” She looks at Lincoln. “I have no idea how you keep it so clean. That was one of the things I was thinking about.” Then she looks back at Bellamy. “I was going to leave and head back home when someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me back from the road.”

“What did Iron Saber want?” Murphy asks, and Clarke raises an eyebrow at him.

“What do you think?” She turns back to Bellamy. “He wanted to know how you contacted me, how you knew I was looking for you, how I contacted you.”

She takes a shaky breath, and Bellamy reaches out, wrapping his hand around hers. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him that you figured out someone was looking for you and you left a note on my car. It’s what I’ve told everyone, but he said I was going to tell him the truth and not what I told my boss.” She takes another deep breath. “He asked if you had ears in Ark Wishes and I told him I didn’t know. But he didn’t seem to like my answers because he kept telling me that he wanted the truth.”

“What did you say?” Raven asks, and Clarke snorts.

“Long story short I told him to go fuck himself.”

She can hear Jasper and Monty laugh a little, and Bellamy smiles at her. “Sounds about right.”

Clarke smiles, too, and she ducks her head a little. Before she can say anything else, the door to the room opens in a whirl.

“Bellamy! You need to see this.” Octavia appears, striding towards her brother with what looks like an iPad in her hands. When she’s close enough, she hands the device over then turns to Clarke, quickly wrapping her in a soft hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” When they pull apart, Octavia’s eyes search her face. “I’m so sorry. I should have called you a cab or—”

“Octavia, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Clarke squeezes her hand. “I’m good.”

The other girl nods, and after a moment, she smiles. “I knew you were a badass.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that—”

“I know a lot of people who would.” Octavia winks, but then she turns back to Bellamy and Clarke sees that everyone has gathered around the coffee table, looking over his shoulder.

“What’s happening?” Clarke asks, leaning forward, and Bellamy’s jaw clenches before he looks up at her. There’s a look in his eye, a dark look that she hasn’t seen before, and she loses the ability to breathe. Wordlessly, he hands her the iPad, and when she looks down at it, there’s a live stream of a news broadcast, with a bruised Iron Saber talking to the reporter.

 _He looks like shit_. And then she sees the headline.

_The Rebel takes it too far: Attacks a girl near his mural in downtown Arkadia_

Then she focuses on what’s being said. “Iron Saber, can you tell us what was going through your mind when you found them?”

“It was heartbreaking. Seeing a man who had just met his biggest fan, villain or not, attacking an innocent girl,” the guy shakes his head. “I knew I had to do something. She was already on the ground, and the blood—”

Clarke stares at the screen in front of her, feeling the anger build in her chest.

“Fucking asshole.” A familiar voice catches Clarke’s attention and when she turns, a soft glow begins to fill the room. Similar to the one she remembers seeing right before she blacked out.

When she looks, the light gets brighter for a moment before it disappears completely, and where she knows Demeter should be standing, it’s Harper. Clarke’s mouth drops open and her friend’s eyes fall on her. Harper’s eyes widen as she walks forward, and Clarke can only stare.

“Clarke, are you okay?” Harper sits down beside her.

“You’re Demeter,” she whispers.

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell us.”

Harper’s lips press into a thin line, and she glances at their friends standing off to the side. When she looks back at Clarke, her eyes soften. “I couldn’t,” she murmurs. “it’s not that I didn’t trust any of you, it’s just—”

“The principle,” Clarke adds, and Harper nods.

“Believe me, I wanted to tell you. But I promised my mother I wouldn’t.”

Clarke looks at Bellamy. “When you said a hero worked at the soup kitchen, you knew it was Harper?”

“I didn’t know it was Harper, but I knew it was Demeter.”

Clarke looks back at Harper. “That day when Miller and I came to talk to you, that’s why you hesitated.”

“Yeah,” her friend nods. “But, I didn’t join you to track The Rebel—Bellamy down and turn him in. Before I took over for my mom, she told me that things weren’t always black and white. There were gray areas. The people you thought were bad weren’t _all_ bad, at least, not all of them.”

“So, you didn’t want to find him?” Clarke asks, raising an eyebrow, and her friend tilts her head from side to side.

“I did want to find him, but not in the way you think.”

“Then why did you want to find me?” Bellamy’s hand is resting on his leg while he looks at her, and Clarke notices that there are bloodied scrapes across his knuckles that she didn’t see before.

Harper draws her shoulders back and lifts her chin as she looks at him. It’s a look of determination, and one Clarke has seen a lot of times. No one speaks, and Bellamy doesn’t waver in his gaze. Waiting.

“I want to join you,” Harper says finally. “I’m tired of being labeled a hero when those who hold the title do not deserve it.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. “You want to be a villain?”

“Not a villain,” Harper corrects. “A vigilante.”

And then, the room erupts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iron Saber's an asshole
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx
> 
> I was planning on trying to have chapter 9 done by today, but I haven't had much time to work on it, so I'll just update when I can! (Though I'm still aiming for Tuesday :) )


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm so sorry for not updating for this long. If I'm being honest, I knew where I wanted this story to go but I wasn't entirely sure how to get there. I've actually had the majority of this chapter written but with no way to end it, but I figured it out :) I don't have chapter 10 written yet, but I do know how it's going to go so it's just a matter of me being able to find time to write it.
> 
> But, with all of that being said...I hope you enjoy it :)

“You want to do _what?”_

“Harper, are you sure about that?”

“What about the other heroes?”

Everyone talks at the same time and it’s difficult to make out everything that’s being said, but it’s Bellamy and Harper that Clarke pays attention to. Bellamy doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, and Harper doesn’t waver in her gaze. It’s a challenge, she realizes, but she knows how it will end. 

After what feels like a long time, Bellamy finally nods his head once. “Okay.” 

That gets everyone’s attention and they all look at what’s happening. The smile that breaks across Harper’s face is infectious, and Clarke finds herself smiling, too. “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me. We could help each other.”

“I think so, too, and, now,” Harper turns to look at Clarke, “I want to get the asshole who attacked you.”

“I think you did that pretty well,” Murphy chimes in, and Clarke turns to look at him.

The sudden movement causes her vision to go white, and one of her hands comes up to hold the side of her head. She can hear the others say her name, and the feeling of someone’s hand coming to rest on her knee. When her vision comes back, she looks over and sees Bellamy’s brown eyes focused on her, and his eyebrows knitted together.

“I think we should get you into bed. For now.”

Clarke nods her head slightly, not wanting to aggravate her injury, and the two of them stand with Harper holding onto Clarke’s hand. Everyone gives her a hug, with Monty promising that he’ll bring her something to eat later, and then Bellamy guides her out of the room. When they’re in the hallway, Clarke looks around, still wondering where she is. She’s in a house, obviously, but she’s not sure who’s. _Well, it’s probably Bellamy’s._

He leads her towards a set of stairs, and whenever she looks to find the top of them it feels like the room is spinning around her. She grips the banister tight and takes a steadying breath, then she can feel Bellamy’s hand come to rest on her back.

“Do you think you can make it?”

“Uh…” she tries to look up again, but she’s starting to feel lightheaded. “I don’t think so.”

“Come here.” Before Clarke can ask what they’re going to do, Bellamy bends down and puts one of his arms under her legs while the other supports her back, and he lifts her up. Her arm wraps around his neck, and when she looks at him, his eyes search her face, and this close, she can see just how many freckles are on his skin. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Her hand tightens on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

The corner of his mouth turns up, but she can see the pain behind his eyes. “You don’t have to thank me.” Bellamy starts up the stairs, and Clarke holds onto him tighter.

“You’re carrying me up two flights of stairs, I don’t know who else would do this.”

“But the reason you’re hurt is because of me,” he says softly. “And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make it up to you.”

“It’s not your fault, Bellamy.”

“Octavia tried telling me the same thing—”

“Then I suggest you believe us. I have a feeling neither of us are rarely wrong.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”

When he reaches the second floor, he takes a right down the hallway and doors start appearing around them. There’s pictures on the walls, some paintings that Clarke can’t make out before they disappear over Bellamy’s shoulder. She can even see a vase of flowers sitting on a table before he stops near a door. He opens it with the hand that’s under her legs, then pushes his way into the room. It’s dark, and Clarke reaches out to turn on the light.

The room is all dark wood and warm light, and it feels cozy. Bellamy takes a few steps and then he’s placing her on the bed, and she sinks into the mattress. _This is a lot better than mine_. She moves onto her side slightly so she’s not laying on her bandage, and Bellamy kneels beside her.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” Her eyes close for a moment, but all she can see is Iron Saber standing over her, and when she opens them again, she reaches out and places her hand over his that’s resting on the bed. His eyes are soft, but there’s a downward tilt to his lips and the look from the stairs is still there. He turns his hand over, and she holds onto it.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me—”

“Like I said, it’s not your fault.” Bellamy’s eyes move from hers, and he nods his head a little, but Clarke squeezes his hand. “But if you need it, I’ll give it to you. Okay? You’re forgiven.”

To her surprise, Bellamy lifts their joined hands and kisses her knuckles. “I should let you get some rest.”

“Well, how will I get down the stairs if you’re not there to carry me?”

That pulls a smile onto his face, and he laughs a little. “You’re a princess, aren’t you?”

“Only on the weekends.”

He laughs more, and Clarke can feel his breath fan out across her knuckles. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Are you going to leave?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

“Um…” she swallows thickly, and the thought of the night before creeps into her mind uninvited. “Maybe until I fall asleep?”

“Okay.” Bellamy smiles a little at her, and Clarke scoots over on the bed, smiling as she pats the empty space beside her.

Once he’s laying down, Clarke rolls onto her back a little and looks around the room. There are bookshelves lining most of the walls, and a wooden desk in a corner with more books piled onto it. There’s no T.V., but she saw a laptop on the nightstand. “Where are we?”

“My bedroom.” Bellamy looks around, too. “The guest rooms aren’t really _guest_ rooms anymore since a few people have taken them over, and I think my bed is the best so,” he shrugs.

“I should have known.” Clarke smiles and looks around some more. “It’s you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I think it’s the books.”

“Maybe.” His eyes roam over the bookshelves. “When I was younger, I always asked my mom for books as presents.”

“It seems like she never disappointed.”

“No, she didn’t.” When Clarke looks up at him, she knows the look on his face. She reaches out and closes her hand over his that’s resting beside him on the bed.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He squeezes her hand and looks down at her. “We knew it was coming.”

“Was that—” Clarke bites the inside of her cheek. She wants to ask, but she’s not sure if it would be crossing a line.

“Was what?”

“The in memoriam donation to the soup kitchen, was that—”

“Yeah, it was for her.” His hand tightens around hers. “She loved helping people. She always gave everything she could whenever she could. She raised me and Octavia to do the same.”

“Did she know that you wanted to become part of the supers?”

“She had a joke when I was younger that if I did anything wrong then she would call Father Prime on me. As I got older,” he smiles down at her, “she was the one who told me that I shouldn’t wear a cape.”

Despite the pain in her head, Clarke laughs a little. “At least she supported you. Even if you were going to be the most wanted person in the state.”

“That wasn’t _intentional_ , but she always made sure I knew where I came from.”

Clarke’s eyes flutter closed again, and her head lulls to the side, resting against his shoulder. “Hmm…modern-day Robin Hood.” She can hear Bellamy’s laugh and feel his body shake with it. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be awake, but will you tell me about her?”

Bellamy moves down on the bed so he’s laying down and Clarke rests her head against his shoulder again. “Sure.”

Clarke tries to keep herself awake for as long as she can, asking questions when they come into her mind and smiling whenever Bellamy tells her that his mom made him and Octavia hold hands whenever they fought. Him talking about his mom reminds her of her dad, and she begins to wonder what he would say about everything that’s happened. Bellamy’s hand doesn’t leave hers while he talks, and then that’s how she falls asleep. With his deep voice sounding in her ears and the warmth from his hand seeping into hers.

Over the next couple of weeks, Clarke’s friends end up making themselves at home again in her apartment, with Raven glaring at people whenever they go somewhere. Lincoln stops by a couple of times to make sure that her head is doing okay, and it’s during one of his visits that she learns he’s a nurse, which makes sense because she knows that Bellamy has been patched up a few times. And then, there’s the man himself.

She doesn’t see him during the day, but it’s come to the point where they text each other good morning every day and there’s a constant conversation going. And then at night he shows up at her place. The first couple of nights, she told him that her friends were sleeping in the living room, so he showed up at her window. Which surprised her because she doesn’t have a ladder leading up to her balcony, but the smile he gave her whenever she opened the doors made her heart flip. She didn’t tell her friends that he was coming over, but the morning after they looked at her in a way that made her think they knew anyway. The two of them stayed up to talk, with Clarke pressing her face into a pillow to keep the others from hearing her laughing. And now that she was feeling better, she didn’t have to worry about her head hurting. They also talked about what to do with Iron Saber, but not too much.

Now, two weeks after the attack, they’re all back in Bellamy’s house and gathered around the dining room table. Clarke was worried that having so many people show up to Bellamy’s hideout, but he had told her that his house was bigger anyway. Now, they have pizzas lining the table with drinks and Octavia is sitting across from Clarke with her feet propped up on the table while she tips her head back to eat a slice of pizza, and Bellamy pulls out the chair beside her at the head of the table, sitting down with his own plate. The rest of their people are spread down the rest of the chairs, and when Bellamy clears his throat, everyone turns to look at him. Harper is at the other end of the table, and Bellamy nods at her.

“So, we need to figure out what to do about Iron Saber.”

“Is there anything we _can_ do?” Monroe asks.

“Well, we think we might have an idea.” Harper looks at Bellamy.

“We take him out once and for all.” Bellamy leans onto the table. “The Rebel, along with Demeter, will be able to take him down.”

“But what if it isn’t?” Jasper asks.

“Then, we track him.” Clarke sits up straighter. “We watch his movements through the city, what he’s doing, and we record him.”

“If the plan is to expose him, wouldn’t it be easier to just tell everyone what happened with you?” Miller looks at Clarke over Raven’s shoulder.

“I don’t have a camera facing that part of the alley by the bar,” Octavia chimes in.

“And there’s been talk about one of the heroes changing sides,” Bellamy adds. Murphy snorts, and Bellamy glances at him. “Iron Saber has accused Demeter of aiding me in beating his ass.”

“But she did.”

“I did,” Harper nods, “and now Iron Saber is trying to turn others against me.”

“Which is something I don’t understand. You’re the most unproblematic hero there is,” Raven rolls her eyes. “So, how exactly do we watch him?”

“You and Monty still have your program, right?” Bellamy asks, and Clarke’s eyes widen slightly. He smirks at her, then leans back in his chair. _How did he know that?_ “So, we use it. And Miller can make sure that no one in the police station notices what’s happening.”

“Sure, why not.” Miller sighs, and Clarke ducks her head as she smiles.

“What can you do with your program?” Bellamy looks between Monty and Raven, and the two of them glance at each other.

“What exactly do you need?”

For the next hour, all of them talk about the different ways they can keep an eye on Iron Saber, and for a way to get the surveillance software into The Rebel’s hideout. In all, they go through a lot of planning, and Clarke idly wonders if she should tell Vera what’s happening. When everything happened, Raven had talked to Clarke’s mother and Vera, but there were more answers that Clarke had to provide when she was feeling up to it. Of course, now, there is even more controversy about letting a villain visit a child, even if they wish for them. But Bellamy said that he doesn’t care if his name is cleared right now, since it’ll happen eventually.

But Clarke could tell that he didn’t like the idea of people believing he was someone who would hurt an innocent person. And after all of the nights they’ve spent together, she knows that he hates being thought of as someone who would hurt _her_. Not that he’s told her that, though. Once they all decide that they’ve gone through everything, everyone disperses from the room and Clarke finds herself at Bellamy’s side as he walks to his office.

It’s a lot like the rest of the house with how it’s decorated, but it resembles his room with the amount of books lining the walls. He told her during one of his nights at her house that this place used to be his grandfather’s, the place where his mother grew up, and when she passed she left it to him. Apparently he and his sister grew up in a place on the other side of town, not far from where Clarke lived. Bellamy sits down in the black leather chair behind the desk and runs his hand over his face, and Clarke sits on the corner of the desk. _He looks tired_.

“What’s on your mind?”

Bellamy sighs and reaches out, and Clarke takes his hand in hers. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

“Is anything ever that easy?” He doesn’t respond to her, and the corners of his mouth tug down even more. Clarke scoots over on the desk until she’s nearly in front of him, and then she nudges his knee with her leg. “Talk to me.”

“I’m worried that he’s going to come after you again.” Bellamy’s voice is low, and his hand squeezes her for a second before he brings his eyes to hers. “And what if I’m not there?”

“Hey, I’m _fine_. Okay? And with Raven and Monty’s program back up and running, everyone will be able to keep an eye on me. No matter where I go.”

“I know.” He tries to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just wish I could do something more.”

“You’ve already spent nearly every night at my house and brought me more ice cream than most people would eat in months, you’ve done enough.”

Bellamy stands and Clarke has to tilt her head up to look at him. His hand slips from hers and he moves forward, standing between her legs. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again because of me.”

“I won’t.” She assures him, and Bellamy’s eyebrows knit together.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ll have you,” she whispers, and she can see the worry behind his eyes as she looks at him. But it’s the truth. She knows he’ll be there, and she’s not worried about what someone else will do to her.

At her admission, Bellamy’s hands find her knees and before Clarke can doubt herself, she places her hands on his shoulders and pulls him towards her. The kiss is soft, and sweet, and it’s everything she’s thought it would be. His hands move up to her waist and she smiles at him when they pull apart. The worry from earlier is gone when he smiles back at her, and then he leans forward and gives her another kiss. There were so many times when they were laying in her bed that she thought about what would happen if she just leaned over and kissed him. And now she’s wondering why she didn’t do it sooner.

There’s a commotion out in the hallway, and the two of them break away from each other. Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together as she looks at him, but Bellamy only smirks and shakes his head as he walks silently towards the door and throws it open. On the other side, Jasper, Monty, Octavia, and Raven are all walking in different directions and Clarke laughs.

“I think you have mice.”

“Yeah, it seems like it. Come on,” he holds his hand out, “lets round them up.”

Clarke hops off the desk and takes his hand, threading their fingers together. She can hear everyone milling about the house, and even though this is only the second time she’s been here, it feels like she’s been there her entire life. Bellamy brings their joined hands up to his lips and kisses the back of hers before leading her towards the living room. 

  
  


The following week, Vera allows Clarke to return back to work, and Clarke knows it’s going to be more meetings she has to attend and questions that she has to answer. Clarke makes her way through the desks and towards Vera’s office, but she can hear voices coming through the other side. She knows that one of them is her boss, and the other is the unmistakable voice of Father Prime. 

She can’t make out much, other than their distinct voices, but neither of them sound particularly happy. She knows she can’t just barge into the room, even if she is supposed to be meeting Vera, but she doesn’t want to just walk away either. She looks to her left and sees a small water station, so she takes a cup off the top out of the plastic bag and fills it with a little water, then walks into the conference room next to Vera's office. 

The blinds on the conference room door are already closed, meaning that there must have just been a meeting, so Clarke closes the door and drains the water from the cup. There’s no guarantee that this would work, but she presses the paper cup against the wall and puts her ear to it. The voices aren’t that much louder, but she can at least make out more of what they’re saying. 

“You say that...she’s your responsibility.”

“I know my responsibilities...she’s the best.”

“Let us help, Vera…”

“Thank you...concern...ask you to leave.”

“You’ll regret not listening to me,” Father Prime hisses, and Clarke raises an eyebrow. 

“I have another meeting. Good day.” 

The door to Vera’s office opens, and Clarke can hear Father Prime’s shoes hitting the tiled floors and heading towards the elevators. After a few moments, Clarke walks out of the conference room and fills her cup back with water then enters her boss’s office. Vera is sitting at her desk, but the annoyance that Clarke heard in her voice isn’t anywhere to be seen on her face. The older woman smiles when she walks in, and stands up to hug her.

“Clarke, welcome back.”

“Thank you, Vera.” 

Vera holds onto her arms as she steps back and takes her in. “How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful. I’ve been cleared to work again, and I have to say I’ve missed this place.” 

“Ready to get back out there, huh?”

“I really am.” 

The two of them each take a seat, and Vera folds her hands as she leans onto her desk. Clarke wants to tell Vera the truth, and after talking to Bellamy and Harper, they’ve decided that she can be trusted. She even brought up talking to Miller’s dad, since he’s even more hellbent on finding The Rebel, but she knows that they need to do this one step at a time. 

“So, what did you do while you were off?” Vera asks, pulling a piece of paper out of her desk drawer and grabbing a pencil. _I’ve never had someone write down these answers before._

“Uh, I stayed home, ate ice cream. Raven practically moved in with me along with a couple of our other friends.” 

“Mhm.” 

“I slept a lot, too. But I’ve been waiting to be able to come back.” Clarke’s eyes dart to the paper, and Vera holds it up to where Clarke can read it. 

_I have a feeling we’re being listened to. Father Prime made himself more than clear when he said that they could “help”_

Clarke takes a deep breath and lets it out softly, nodding her head. “So, is there any case I can start working on?”

“Well, there are a few newcomers who could use some guidance. Their children have requested Shaynetta, Father Prime, and Iron Saber.”

Clarke slips out her phone and opens her notes app. “And who are the newcomers?” 

Clarke and Vera conduct the meeting like they usually would, but Clarke wonders if there is someone listening to them and watching them or if Vera just wants to be careful. Either way, when Vera tells her that she can get to work, Clarke ducks into the bathroom and pulls out the burner phone that Murphy gave her. 

_Father Prime paid work a visit_ _  
_ _He threatened my boss when she turned him down and she thinks they’re watching her_

When the message is sent she doesn’t wait around to see if Murphy will answer, because she knows he won’t. The day he gave it to her, he told her that she could only use it if she had to. It seemed like he was worried that she would keep blowing up his phone like Miller did a couple of months ago, but he didn’t have to worry about that. She had Bellamy’s number tucked away in her phone. 

As she walks to her desk, she knows Raven won’t be at hers since she’s visiting the kid in the next town over whose case she got assigned, but she’s surprised to see a little glass vase of flowers and a welcome back card with Maya’s signature on it. Clarke hadn’t seen the other girl when she walked in, and she realizes that the two of them haven’t gotten lunch together in a while. When she first arrived at Arkadian Wishes, Maya was the one who Vera asked to show her around the building since Vera had a bunch of meetings, and the two of them became friends. Clarke makes a mental note to talk to her when she leaves, and then logs on to her computer.

She types out an email to the new people telling them who she is and that she’s here to help if they need it, and then she checks her phone. Most new comers don’t like asking for help when they obviously need it, so she doesn’t expect to get an answer from them anytime soon. She logs into her computer and she sees all of the files she had to try and find Bellamy. She smiles at the folders littering her desktop, then she highlights all of them and dumps them into the recycling bin before emptying it completely. _I_ _won’t need those anymore_.

Surprisingly, three different E-mails pop up on her screen, and she opens them. They’re all from the new employees, which surprises her, so she sends out another email saying that they can all get lunch and she’ll talk with them about what they’re having trouble with. It’s not how she expected her first day back at work to go, but at least it’ll be easy.

At the end of the day, Clarke heads home after telling her coworkers that they can text her if they have any more trouble, which, they didn’t exactly have trouble, but seemed to be interested in learning about what happened to her. She should have known that this was going to happen, but she didn’t think it would happen _immediately_. Groaning, she unlocks the door to her apartment and slips in, already smelling something being cooked on the stove. When she walks into the kitchen, the last thing she expected to see was Bellamy stirring something in a pot with one of her dish towels thrown over his shoulder. He looks up when he hears her footsteps and Clarke smiles.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” He walks towards her and wraps an arm around her waist as he gives her a quick kiss. “How was work?”

“Did Murphy talk to you?”

“Yeah, he did.” Bellamy moves back to the pot of food cooking on the stove.

“Which is where I come in.” Monty leans over the back of the couch to look at her. “We’re having lunch together tomorrow.”

“I’m a little hurt that you need a reason to stop by for lunch,” Clarke teases as she places her bag down on the counter and opens her fridge. “What are we going to do?”

“You’re going to introduce me to Vera while she’s in her office and I’m going to sweep the place for bugs.”

“I would do it, but I have to back to Polis tomorrow to see my kid.” Raven says as she walks out of Clarke’s room with a towel around her head. We’re going to have a tea party.” Raven smiles as she begins to dry her hair, and Clarke smiles, too.

“I want pictures of that.”

“Me, too.” Miller raises his hand from the beanbag chair.

Clarke turns her attention back to Bellamy and she leans against her counter as she watches him cook. “So, are you checking up on me or do you just miss me?”

Bellamy gives her a lopsided grin as he moves the pot from the hot burner and onto a cold one. “I, uh, got caught in your room and put on kitchen duty. I hope you like it.”

“You got caught?” Clarke laughs, and she can hear her friends snort behind her.

“Honestly, like we _don’t_ know the two of you are together.” Raven rolls her eyes. “I saw him on my way to take a shower. Tell him to use the door like a normal person, I almost attacked him.”

“I think I could’ve handled it.” Bellamy smirks, and Raven raises an eyebrow.

“Want to find out?”

“Hey, I think the foods done!” Jasper jumps up from the couch and everyone laughs as he begins handing out bowls.

Much like her time trying to track down Bellamy, trying to keep tabs on Iron Saber proves to be time consuming and doesn’t really yield any results. The weeks turn into months, and even though they’ve caught him doing some things that wouldn’t really be considered superhero _like_ , they’re not bad enough to really turn people’s perception of him. Over time, Clarke finds herself spending more time at Bellamy’s hideout, then eventually his house.

There’s more room to accommodate everyone, and considering that they’re all having to spend more time monitoring things, it means that they’re able to spread out and work comfortably. Tonight, Lincoln and Octavia are cooking dinner while Monroe and Miller lead the night shift, and Clarke is sitting across from Bellamy’s desk while they go through some of the pictures from the security footage that they have. They’ve placed more cameras around the city, with four hidden on each corner of Octavia’s and even more tucked around the hideout. It’s given them a wider view of the area, and The Rebel a better idea of who his next target is going to be.

It’s on one particular image that Clarke stops. There’s a dark shadow in the corner of it, one that she can barely make out even with the picture being held up to her face, and in the street light there’s Ryker Desai, a politician that was going to begin running for office later in the year but was found nearly beaten to death near the river. The police didn’t have any suspects and there wasn’t any evidence on Ryker’s clothes that they could use to try and identify anyone. That was over a month ago and he’s still in the hospital.

“Bellamy,” Clarke leans forward and places the picture down on the table, “what does that look like to you?”

Bellamy’s eyes narrow as he looks down at the picture, and then he raises an eyebrow. “A person’s shadow.”

“And that’s Ryker.” Clarke’s eyes widen as she leans forward even more. “What if that’s Iron Saber?”

“Do you think he’s the one who attacked him?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Bellamy considers everything for a moment then nods his head. “Okay, let’s go see.”

The two of them make their way down the hall and towards the surveillance room where five people are watching all of the monitors and searching through the previous footage that they have to make sure they haven’t missed anything. When Miller catches sight of Bellamy he nods his head and straightens.

“Something come up?”

“We need the footage from Jackson road on May 30th, around 9 that night.”

“I got it,” John Mbege calls over his shoulder, and Bellamy, Clarke, Miller, and Monroe gather around him. “What exactly am I looking for?”

Clarke braces herself against the back of the chair and looks over his shoulder. “I’ll tell you when I see it.”

The footage is clear for the most part, all of the cameras on that street not picking up even a stray animal, that is, until there’s one lone man walking down the sidewalk. Even from far away Clarke can tell that it’s Ryker. The suit, the briefcase, the way he seems to favor his right side after being in a motorcycle accident when he was younger. She stares at the screen as he nears the shadow she knows Iron Saber must have been hiding, and then she sees it.

“Can you go back?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mbege backs the video up ten seconds, and then Clarke watches thee corner where the shadow is. There’s obviously something moving in it.

“One more time, please, and every should keep their attention in this corner.” Clarke points to the place on the screen and Mbege backs the video up one last time.

“What was that?” Monroe asks.

“We think it was Iron Saber,” Bellamy says, and Clarke can hear everyone else in the room begin to whisper.

“Is there any way you can enhance that image Mbege?” Miller crosses his arms over his chest, and narrows his eyes at the monitor.

Mbege zooms in on the image then sharpens it, and replays it again. There’s definitely movement in the shadow that they’re looking at, and it looks like an arm. After it’s replayed a couple of more times, Bellamy straightens and turns his attention to the room.

“I need everyone to find footage of Jackson road on May 30th at 9:03 that night. There’s a shadow in the bottom corner and we believe it was Iron Saber following Ryker Desai. I want his movements tracked and even if we lose sight of him then I want you to access any footage we can get our hands on. Find everything you can, connect it together, then send it to me.”

He looks towards Clarke. “We need to round everyone else up.”

The two of them, along with Miller, make their way into the dining room where the others are planning their next patrols, and Bellamy calls Octavia and Lincoln from the kitchen. When everyone is together, Clarke places the image down on the table and they gather around it.

“We think Iron Saber was the one who attacked Ryker Desai and if he was—”

“Then this could be the break we were looking for,” Raven chimes in.

“If we can prove it’s him, my dad would be more than happy to bring him in,” Miller arches an eyebrow. “I just need to bring him proof.”

“It won’t be enough.” Monty’s eyebrows furrow together. “There aren’t any surveillance cameras that look towards the river, I’ve already checked, nothing that gets close either. We’ll need more proof that he’s prone to attacking people.”

“Wouldn’t his earlier criminals be enough to prove that?” Murphy asks, and Octavia shakes her head.

“No, it wouldn’t. They were criminals, _dangerous_ criminals at that, so he could say it was justified, even if he went a little overboard everyone waved it away because they believed it was necessary. We know why he attacked Ryker.”

“And Ryker was _talking_ about possibly putting restrictions on the heroes, it doesn’t mean he would have. Iron Saber attacked him because of an idea,” Lincoln chimes in.

“So, what? We need to wait until he attacks someone else? Ryker is barely alive as it is, we can’t wait for Iron Saber to attack someone else. We can’t watch everyone in the city.” Bellamy crosses his arms over his chest and looks at everyone.

There are dark circles under his eyes, which isn’t surprising because Clarke knows he’s been getting less and less sleep as the days go by. No matter how much she tries to convince him that he needs to get more sleep, she knows that he wants to get Iron Saber possibly more than she does. She knows how guilty he still feels since she’s been attacked, even though it’s been almost four months. _I can only hope that he can forgive me for this._

“We don’t need to wait for him to attack someone,” Clarke says, and she can feel everyone’s eyes turn towards her. When she looks up, she crosses her arms over her chest. “We have him attack me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aiming to have chapter 10 up by next week, and I'll do my best to make that happen! I'm taking three summer classes so I have a lot of work I need to do, but I haven't forgotten about y'all or this fic :)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The long awaited tenth chapter. I'm so sorry that I've disappeared from this fic multiple times but I really appreciate y'all sticking with me <3 
> 
> Now, let's begin...

Bellamy’s eyes are hard as he looks at her, and she can see his jaw working. What she said made everyone go quiet, almost like they were expecting Bellamy to say something about it. She can see the anger on his face, but she believes she knows him well enough at this point to realize that there’s also worry in his eyes.

“Clarke…” his voice is low, and she lifts her chin up as she looks at him.

“This is my decision, Bellamy, and I know it’s not the best—”

“The _best?_ ” His voice rises. “It’s _suicide,_ Clarke!”

“He’s got a point,” Raven says, and Clarke turns around to look at her. “He knows that you know the truth, and if he believes that you’ll expose him, then we don’t know what he’ll do.”

“I know the risks,” Clarke says calmly, then she turns back to Bellamy. “I know what this means. Believe me, I was there that night, I’ve seen footage of what he’s done, I know what he’s capable of doing, but,” she takes a deep breath, “I want to bring him in. And I want it to be my way.”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything as he looks down at her, and Clarke doesn’t waver in her gaze. She doesn’t know how long they look at each other, but as the time goes on, the more the silence has a noise ringing in her ear.

“Fine,” he growls. Then, without another word, he turns and heads towards the hall, slamming the door shut behind him.

Clarke lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and she braces her hands on the chair in front of her. _Well, that could have gone better_. Everyone is still silent as they look at each other, and Octavia takes a deep breath.

“I’ll go talk to him.” And with that, the younger Blake heads towards the door, following after her brother.

~

Two weeks after Clarke’s decision, she’s standing in the break room across the hall from Vera’s office with Miller, since having him here is part of the plan. Clarke picks up her mug once the Keurig finishes, and Miller leans against the counter, sipping on his bottle of water. There are a few other people in the break room, too, with some of them casting not-so-subtle glances at them.

“So, I have a question,” Clarke says, not exactly trying to keep her voice down but making sure it’s low enough to where not _everyone_ can hear her. She takes a sip of her tea, looking at him over the rim, then leans forward a little. “I want to press charges against Iron Saber.”

Miller’s eyebrows arch towards his hairline, but Clarke knows him well enough to see when he’s trying to fight back a smile. “You want to _what?_ ”

“You heard me. I want to press charges against Iron Saber.” Clarke takes another sip of her drink, then glances around the room. “Maybe we could get lunch?”

“Yeah,” Miller nods his head, “I think we should.”

Clarke leads the way out of the room with about four of her coworkers watching them go, but they don’t move as quickly as they probably should. “I’m not scared of him,” she says as they walk by Vera’s door, “and I need to show that I’m not.”

“But, Clarke, are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure.” The two of them make their way towards her desk so she can grab her purse. “Everyone deserves to know the truth.”

“This won’t be pretty.”

“I know. I didn’t expect it to be.”

The corner of Miller’s mouth turns up as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Then, maybe we should go talk to my dad.”

As they make their way towards the elevators, the two of them continue to talk about her pressing charges against Iron Saber, making sure that most of the people on the floor hear them talking, and then they’re out of the building. Since Monty ended up finding a bug in Vera’s office and another in one of the conference rooms, but there wasn’t anything on Clarke’s computer after having been gone for so long. Not that someone would have found anything anyway. The only information she had on The Rebel had been burned, with his number saved in her phone under a name no one would recognize.

When they reach Clarke’s car and get in, they both sigh and look at each other. “Think that’s going to work?” Miller asks, and Clarke shrugs.

“With the bugs that Monty found and the fact that _someone_ has to be listening to what’s going on inside of that place, he’ll know something.”

Miller leans back in his seat, his head resting against the headrest. “Why doesn’t that thought comfort me,” he mumbles.

In the end, the two of them end up going to a little café a couple of blocks away to get some coffee and a light snack, and once they’re done eating Clarke drives Miller to his car before going back to work. There’s nothing unusual about her coworkers around her, or her desk, so she takes a deep breath as she sits down and pulls up her emails. Vera still hasn’t given her a case, but instead she’s still helping the newcomers go through the process of meeting with the heroes and their kids that they’re assigned to. Which, she understands why Vera tasked her with this. It’s getting her closer to more heroes rather than just having her deal with one.

“Hey, Clarke?” Maya’s voice pops up beside her, and Clarke looks up. “I have some people who were asking to see you.”

When she looks, there’s a couple, about their mid-thirties, looking at her with anxious expressions. _Why come directly to me and not through Vera?_

“Of course. Thank you, Maya.” Clarke stands, moving to shake the couple’s hands, and Maya smiles as she heads back towards the elevators. “Hi, I’m Clarke Griffin.”

“I’m Charles Hardy,” the man holds out his hand. “And this my wife Marissa.”

“Hi.” Marissa says, and Clarke shakes her hand, too.

“What can I help you with?”

“Well,” the wife begins as she and her husband glance at each other, “it’s about our son.”

Clarke nods her head, then looks around the room. There are a few people looking at them, since this isn’t exactly common protocol, and she spots a conference room that Monty said was clear of any bugs.

“Why don’t we go somewhere more private to talk?” She leads the way through the desks and towards the conference room with the couple following close behind her, then she opens the door and motions for them to go in.

She knows she’ll have to call for Vera soon, but she’d like to try and figure out what the parents want before she brings her boss into it. The couple takes a seat in the chairs, looking at her.

“What about your son?” Clarke asks once the door is closed, and she takes a seat, too.

“Our son is sick, and he hasn’t been given a very good prognosis. We’d like to talk to Arkadian Wishes about adopting him for the wish fulfilment program,” The husband says softly, and reaches out to wrap his hand around his wife’s.

“Well, we’d be more than happy to help him get his wish. If you want I can call in my boss—”

“The thing is,” the wife interjects, “is that what he’s wishing for, we don’t know if you’ll be willing to accept it. We came to you because you’re the only one who could possibly help him.”

“I see.” Clarke leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “And what is your son’s wish?”

The two of them look at each other for a moment before looking back at her. “Ethan wants to meet Agent Red.”

Clarke looks at them for a second, the realization setting in. The mother and father look at her, the anxious expression still on their faces. _They think I’ll say no_. Decision made, Clarke sits up, smiling at them.

“I’d be more than happy to help him get his wish. Let me go get my boss.”

Mr. and Mrs. Hardy smile at her, and Clarke is reminded of why she took this job in the first place.

~

Despite Agent Red being a low-level villain, there was still a murmur around the floor about Clarke taking on yet another villain case after having been “attacked” by The Rebel. But she ignored all of it. Even though she’s spent almost all of her nights planning what they’re going to do to capture Iron Saber, finding Agent Red hasn’t taken up nearly as much of her time as trying to find The Rebel did. Agent Red came to her. And her taking on that case also ended up encouraging a few more families coming forward with their children requesting to meet villains, which she was more than happy to take on.

When she reaches her apartment, Clarke grabs her bag and gets out of her car, making her way towards the apartment. It’s been three weeks since she and Miller talked about speaking out against Iron Saber, and nothing has happened. If it continues like this, meaning if nothing happens _tonight_ , she might actually have to go public, not just stop by the police department to talk to Captain Miller without anyone else around.

When she steps inside her apartment, the smell of something good cooking hits her, and Clarke’s stomach immediately starts growling. With what little she ate for lunch and the fact that her appetite hasn’t been the best recently with everything that’s going on, she’s _starving_. Surprisingly, it’s Murphy who’s at the stove when she makes her way into the kitchen, and she quirks an eyebrow at him.

“You cook?”

“Do you?” He raises an eyebrow back at her then dips his spoon in the pot and then holds it out to her. Clarke looks between him and the spoon before leaning forward and sipping the juice that’s in it. Her eyes widen and her hand comes up to cover her mouth.

“Oh my god.”

“Uh-huh.” Murphy puts the spoon off to the side and grabs the ladle, stirring the contents. “We have an hour for dinner and then it’s out on the street. Miller is already stationed with Monroe, and Raven and Monty are monitoring the cameras. Jasper is at Octavia’s with Lincoln and Harper, and there’s about a dozen other people already stationed around the city waiting.”

“And Bellamy?” She asks, and Murphy’s gaze not meeting hers makes her heart drop.

“He’s had something he needs to take care of, but he’ll be there.”

The two of them don’t talk much as they eat the food he’s made, and before long Clarke is in her bathroom, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and changing out of her work clothes. They’ve had to make it seem like there wasn’t anyone coming or leaving her apartment ever since they decided that this was going to be their plan, but even though Bellamy and Murphy are sneaky enough to get into her place without being seen, Bellamy hasn’t shown up in a few days just to be safe. Except, now, she wishes he would have. Even though he wasn’t exactly happy with her plan, there wasn’t really anything he could do about it.

When she’s changed into clothes that look more like they’re for “going out,” she reappears in the living room where Murphy is looking out of the curtains, his phone in his hand. He turns to look at her when she stops near him, and then he nods his head.

“You’ll leave first, and I’ll keep an eye on things around here. Like I said, there are people everywhere—”

“You already explained it to me, Murphy. You don’t have to explain it again.”

“Bellamy asked me to.” Murphy holds up his phone. “Now, there are people scattered across the path you’re supposed to be taking, but also some positioned a little further out. The facial recognition software is going to be tracking you throughout the city, but we can’t have you only staying in streetlights, okay? Iron Saber only attacks when he has cover, but some more cameras have been placed in darker areas with night vision just to be safe.”

“When did that happen?” Clarke asks, her eyebrows furrowing together. At the last big meeting, people agreed that the number of cameras they already had were enough. _Now there’s more?_

“This morning,” Murphy huffs. “Now, did Mbege go over what to do with your phone?”

“I got the app, and he told me the number.”

“Alright, now, what streets are you going to go down?”

After about another fifteen minutes of going over the plan, Clarke is finally out of her apartment and on the street. Their plan is to have her walk around some populated areas, but not Octavia’s bar, or near Mount Pleasant, but mostly downtown. Around a few dive bars, and then make her way to where Ryker was attacked. After trying to keep an eye on Iron Saber, they’ve narrowed down some of the places he seems to like being so, if anything, maybe she’ll just run into him on accident. Not that she’s _wanting_ to run into him, but still.

She makes her way down Main Street, then Laurel, crosses over Esplanade, but when she turns onto Brightside, she finds her path being blocked by road work. _Huh. They didn’t tell me about that_. There are orange cones and orange and white barriers and orange netting blocking off the entire width of the street, even the sidewalks, so Clarke turns around and looks around her. She can see some bars in the opposite direction, but she wasn’t told to go there, and if she looks like she’s walking around in circles then he might think something is up.

So, decision made, Clarke turns right and keeps going straight, so instead of turning down Brightside, she crosses over it and keeps walking down the street she had been on. She can’t exactly pull out her phone and tell someone what’s happening, especially when she could be being watched by Iron Saber, so she takes a deep breath and keeps walking.

There are certain places in downtown where the camera coverage is spotty, Miller said so himself, but she’s not exactly worried about that. There was spotty coverage with Ryker, but they still ended up finding enough evidence to have proof that Iron Saber was the one who attacked him. Though, they had a plan for turning it in.

At some point, the street lamps on the road begin to flicker, and Clarke can feel a chill go down her spine. _Someone’s watching me_ . It reminds her of the feeling she had when she was still looking for The Rebel, but she hadn’t been worried then. _Everyone is watching me. It’s fine…though, I haven’t seen another person in a little bit._ Her hand flexes inside of her jacket pocket, aching to reach for her phone, but she doesn’t. This isn’t something she can just run from. On top of wanting to bring Iron Saber to justice for the shit he’s done, this is also personal. She wants to get to him first. She especially knows that Bellamy wants to get to him before anyone else does.

Then, her thoughts drift to him. They talked after he stormed out that night, and he apologized for how he acted, but Clarke told him that he couldn’t keep her from doing this. He knew that though. After that, he showed up to her place a lot more, whenever she wasn’t at his to plan, and it’s gotten to the point where she’s used to sleeping with him beside her. Even before then they had a bad habit of sleeping in bed with each other, so she’s not really surprised.

She curls and uncurls her fists in her jacket pocket, wondering if, when this is all over, if the two of them will really be able to sit down and talk about their relationship. It’s not a normal one, to say the least, but with all the time they’ve spent together—

A noise breaks through her thoughts, and Clarke’s head whips around to see if she can see anything. The noise of the bars and clubs has disappeared, and it’s then that she realizes how far she’s walked. She was too far into her head to realize that she's _really_ strayed off the path they planned. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

The noise comes again, but when she looks, it’s only a stray orange tabby cat, and Clarke can feel herself relax. “I don’t suppose you’re going to start singing, are you?”

The cat only stares at her before darting off behind a couple of trash cans, and Clarke shakes out her arms. _It’s not the boogeyman_. Taking a deep breath, she begins to hum the lyrics to “Thomas O’Malley Cat” as she turns around and starts back down the street the way she came. She should be over singing children’s songs, but it’s dark, and she’s scared, and the lyrics are stuck in her head now.

She hasn’t gotten very far when there’s another noise that comes behind her, and even though she tries to tell herself that it’s another stray cat, but she knows that that’s probably not it. It’s when she can feel someone standing behind her that she wishes she would have put her pepper spray or her keys into her jacket pocket, but for whatever reason she wasn’t thinking about that. Steeling herself, Clarke turns around. Coming face to face with a grinning Iron Saber, and her blood runs cold.

“Hello, again, sweetheart.”

And then everything goes black.

~

When she wakes up, she can’t see anything but Clarke can feel something cold biting into her back, and there’s a sharp pain in her head with ringing in her ears. _Honestly, isn’t there a better way to knock someone out?_ She takes a few deep breaths, trying to get rid of the pain that’s in her chest. With everything being dark, she can’t see where she is, or what’s around her, but the place smells damp and moldy, and she wonders if the sound she’s hearing is running water.

_Where’s my phone? Does anyone know that I’m gone? They have to know…don’t they?_

The lights are turned on and her vision goes white for a moment, causing Clarke to screw her eyes shut and then try and blink through it. The room she’s in is bare of anything except a couple of cameras on the rock walls surrounding her and a dark mirror that she hadn’t seen. When she looks at the floor, it’s stained red.

“Oh, someone is awake.” Iron Saber walks through a cutout place in the rock. “You have a very bad habit of falling asleep when I need to talk to you.”

“Maybe if you’d stop hitting me in the head we wouldn’t have that problem,” Clarke bites out, and Iron Saber smirks at her.

“I was right, you do have a smart mouth.” A familiar voice says, and Clarke’s eyes widen as Father Prime walks through the carved entryway, too. “Now, Clarke, if you’d be so kind and tell us what we want to know, then we’ll let you go.”

“Right.” Clarke nods her head sarcastically. “Because I totally believe that.”

“I don’t know why you’re bothering to lie to her,” Shaynetta appears, too, “we all know she’s not going to leave here.”

Father Prime sighs, and Clarke watches as he rolls his eyes. “Yes, but if you make them believe that they will then they’ll be more open to _cooperating_.”

Shaynetta shrugs and then walks to the wall on Clarke’s left, leaning against it. Her costume is all black with silver threaded into it, whereas Iron Saber is closer to The Rebel’s with black and red mixed together. All her life, she’s grown up around the heroes, being told that they were the ones who would always protect the people when it came down to it, but after spending time with more of the villains after The Rebel, she realizes that they’re actually better people than the ones standing in front of her.

“Okay, so I have a new proposal.” Iron Saber steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest as he comes to stand in front of her. He’s taller than her, so Clarke has to rest her head back against the pole she’s tied to in order to look at him directly. “Tell us what we need to know, and I’ll make your death quick and painless.”

“So, what? Are you expecting to be able to get away with this? People have heard me talking about pressing charges against you for attacking me—”

“Oh, I know that they have, but I know you were never _serious_.” He grins. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out that your big show of going to the police station to “talk” to Captain Miller wasn’t real? You talked to him about his son’s upcoming birthday.”

“But there was no one—” the realization dawns on her, and Clarke presses her lips into a thin line. “You bugged his office.”

“Actually, I did.” Father Prime steps forward. “These two are not as careful as they should be.” He gives Iron Saber a pointed look, and if they were in any other situation, Clarke may have laughed. _He acts like their dad_.

“Are we done talking yet?” Shaynetta groans. “I know you like playing with your food but is this really necessary?”

“I do have one more question,” Clarke says calmly, looking between the three of them. “How can any of you stand in front of hundreds of people, with _thousands_ watching you on television, and vow to protect them and bring justice to society when you turn around and attack those who oppose you? You’re supposed to _help_ humanity, not hurt it.”

“You see, dear girl, that being a hero means that even though all eyes are on you, the police are not placing you under a microscope, trying to keep tabs on you, and the people are not demanding your head.” Father Prime clasps his hands behind his back, walking towards her slowly. “Being a hero means enjoying certain…liberties that come with the title, and if we make a little mess all in the name of what is right, then it’s forgiven.”

“Is nearly killing Ryker Desai what you would call a _little_ mess?” Clarke spits, and Father Prime smiles at her.

“In the grand scheme of things, yes.”

“And you only attacked him because he knew that you needed to be watched closer.” Clarke shakes her head. “You call yourself heroes, but The Rebel is a better person than the three of you combined.”

“Oh, yes, your crush,” Father Prime raises his eyebrows, “Iron Saber told me—”

“That he’s hurt that The Rebel doesn’t care about him?” Clarke guesses, and Iron Saber growls as he steps towards her, backhanding her across the face. She can feel blood pool in her mouth, and her cheek begins to throb but, surprisingly, she doesn’t make a sound.

“ _Enough_ ,” Father Prime sighs. “You have stuck your nose into something that is far bigger than you, and now you have to deal with the consequences.” He flicks his hand in the air and something black is tossed to him. She can’t see exactly what it is, but then he begins to put them on. “I do not enjoy having to clean blood out from under my fingernails,” he explains as he pulls on the gloves. “Now, where do we start?”

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m going to tell you anything.” Clarke lifts her chin up, trying to pull herself to her full height as much as she can. “It’ll just be a waste of your time.”

“Well,” Shaynetta smiles, “we’ll just have to see about that.”

Before Clarke can comprehend what’s going on, a sharp pain splits through her head, and the ringing that had disappeared comes back into full force as she tries to free her hands to cover her ears. It’s useless, she knows that, but she can’t help but _try_. She cries out when the pain intensifies, and she can feel tears begin to well in her eyes.

“Enough.” Father Prime raises his hand and the pain disappears, leaving Clarke heaving. “That is only a taste of what Shaynetta can do. If you do not tell us what we want to know, then this will be how you die. A very slow and very painful death.”

 _Bellamy won’t let me die. I just have to fight long enough for him to find me_. The thought comforts her a little, knowing that Bellamy will look for her until he finds her, but she doesn’t know how long that will be, she doesn’t even know where she is, but it’s the only choice she says. The only _hope_ she has. But she would never give into these people. Especially not if it means there will be others like her.

“Where is The Rebel’s hideout?” Father Prime asks.

“Timbuktu.”

Father Prime’s eyes darken as he reaches for her, his hand wrapping around her neck. His grip is hard enough to make Clarke gasp for breath, but not bad enough to make her believe she’ll have bruises like last time with Iron Saber. She’s never seen him this close up before, and she realizes that the gold on his face that she thought was paint is actually embedded in his skin. His blue eyes look like they’re brighter than they usually are, and his hand tightens around her throat.

“Try again.”

“I don’t know,” she gasps out. “He never brought me there.”

“Don’t believe her. He was conveniently there that night when we had our _misunderstanding_ ,” Iron Saber hisses.

“He didn’t—didn’t want me followed and I never asked to see it.” The edges of Clarke’s vision are beginning to darken and she feels lightheaded, but Father Prime lets her go and she drags air into her lungs.

“How do you get into contact with him.”

“Like I told _him_ ,” Clarke says, glaring towards Iron Saber, “I _don’t_ get into contact with him. He found me first, and that’s how it’s stayed.”

“So, you have kept in touch with him?” Shaynetta raises an eyebrow at her. “And you expect us to believe you _don’t_ know where he’s staying?”

“Oh, she definitely knows.” Iron Saber crosses his arms over his chest, smiling at her. The same smile she’s seen countless times on television, and it makes her blood chill in her veins. “We just have to get it out of her.”

Clarke swallows hard, then Iron Saber walks towards her.

~

When she wakes up for what must be the fifth time, she can feel blood running down the side of her face and the air stings the cuts that are on her cheeks. It’s hard to breathe, both from the blood that’s clogging up her nose and the fact that she’s _pretty sure_ she has a few bruised ribs. Her wrists and ankles feel like they’ve been rubbed raw, and they’re probably bleeding, too, but despite everything, she still hasn’t told them what they want to know. And they’re getting pissed.

 _Just a little bit longer_ , she tells herself. _Just give them a little bit longer to find you_.

The lights are still blinding and she tries to blink her eyes open, but she can’t open them very far without it hurting. She’s never been in this much pain before, and from what she can hear being said, the heroes seem surprised that she’s even still conscious. Even if she does keep passing out and waking up again. She doesn’t know how long she’s been here, or where _here_ is, and she doesn’t know if it’s nighttime still or if it’s sunny outside. She has no concept of time in this place, just that she’ll probably pass out and wake up a little bit later.

“Oh, she’s awake.” Shaynetta grabs a chair, scraping the metal across the concrete of the floor before turning it around and straddling it. “Want to tell us what we want to know now?”

Clarke tries to open her mouth to speak, but there’s pain in her jaw and there’s liquid in her mouth. She spits off to the side, staining the floor in even more red.

“Like I told him, go fuck yourself.”

“I do not understand why you insist on making this so much harder for yourself,” Father Prime sighs.

“I tell you what you want to know, you kill me. I don’t tell you, you still kill me. Why not make you suffer with me if you say I’m dead either way?” Clarke mumbles, her voice not really wanting to work.

Her eyes are heavy, wanting to close again, and the throbbing in her head and all throughout her body makes her want to lay down and go to sleep for a month. She feels tired, drained, but she knows she can’t give up. Not yet. She doesn’t know how long it’s been, but she knows she’s not willing to just roll over right now. Iron Saber walks towards her and squats beside the chair Shaynetta is sitting on. 

“So, you’ve accepted the fact that you’re not going to walk out of here?” Iron Saber asks.

A movement catches her attention over Iron Saber’s shoulder in the shadows of the carved entryway, and Clarke tries to look as much as she can without being obvious, but also without trying to upset her injuries. There doesn’t seem like there was anything there, but she was _sure_ she saw something. _Maybe I’m delirious_. She blinks her eyes a couple of times, and then she sees it again. This time, she can just make out black hair and dark eyes surrounded by black face paint, and she can feel herself wanting to smile.

She looks back at Iron Saber, her eyes barely able to focus, and she grins, the cuts on her face protesting. “You won’t be the one walking out.”

Before Iron Saber can say anything, a few things happen at once. There’s the sound of something cutting through the air, a flash of black, multiple voices yelling and the sound of chairs and other things being knocked over as The Rebel leads a group of villains, Demeter, and Arkadia P.D. into the room. She’s vaguely aware of someone walking towards her, and when she looks, Miller’s face comes into view as he bends down and begins to undo the ropes binding her feet, and then her hands are falling to her side as she sags against the pillar. Her eyes find Bellamy, and when she looks he yells as he lunges for Iron Saber.

Even though the hero doesn’t have much time to react, he’s able to roll out of the way and miss Bellamy’s attempt to grab him, and then the two of them are facing each other. This time, seeing Bellamy in his costume _does_ look menacing. His hair is wild, his face paint is smeared, and his eyes are hard as he stares down the man who’s tried to tear him down. Clarke holds her breath as she watches them look at each other, and then they crash together.

Despite the fact that she knows both of them have weapons that they use when going up against anyone else, this is something personal. Bellamy tackles Iron Saber into the ground with a large _thump_ and Clarke watches as Iron Saber tries to push him off, but Bellamy is stronger, elbowing him in the face. Blood begins to pour from Iron Saber’s nose, and he yells as he propels himself forward and headbutts The Rebel in the face, knocking him back. In a blink, the two of them are back on their feet and rushing towards each other again, but the sound of someone yelling pulls Clarke’s attention away from them.

When she looks, Demeter is wrapping Shaynetta up in a rope of gold. It snakes around the girl’s body and Clarke can see where it’s beginning to dig into her skin, and even though Shaynetta tries to break free from it, it only tightens more. To her left, Father Prime is fighting Agent Red, Cobra, and about a handful of police officers who are trying to get him pinned, but even the great hero is no match for that many people.

Despite the pain that comes with moving, Clarke turns back to The Rebel and Iron Saber. Bellamy is on top of him again, landing punch after punch to the other man’s face, and Clarke watches as Iron Saber’s grip on him begins to loosen. Two other villains, Ghost and The Kidd appear behind him, pulling Bellamy up and off Iron Saber. The hero coughs then rolls over, spitting up as much blood as Clarke has since she’s been here, and then she hears the hammer click.

The room goes silent. No one is fighting, and Father Prime has been brought to his knees with multiple people holding onto him, and a golden helmet has been placed over Shaynetta’s head, which Clarke assumes is to keep her from using her powers. And then, there’s The Rebel. He’s standing over Iron Saber who’s on his knees with a gun pointed at his head. With everything that’s happened, Clarke knows that no one in this room would condemn him if he pulled the trigger. In fact, there are a few people who are probably wishing for him, too. But instead of seeing the Super Villain that everyone else sees, Clarke sees Bellamy. She can see him smiling, hear his laugh, and she remembers all of the stories he’s told her over their time together. _This isn’t who he is_.

“Don’t.” Her voice sounds loud in the quiet room, despite the fact that she still feels really weak. No one else says anything, and she tries to stand up straighter, but her body aches too much for her to move much.

Bellamy doesn’t turn to look at her, but after a moment, she can hear the gun un-cock and his hand falls to his side, looking down at Iron Saber. “You don’t deserve to die,” he says calmly. “Where you’re going will be worse.”

The Rebel hands off the gun to one of the other villains and then he walks towards her, and Clarke’s eyes find his. He wastes no time bending down and picking her up, and Clarke curls into his chest as he walks her out of the room with everyone following behind them.

“Let’s get you home.”

When they get outside it’s dark, but she can see the beginning of the sunrise that is starting to color the sky behind the mountains in the distance. She looks around as much as she can, trying to figure out where she is, and it looks like they’re near the river, but she’s not sure where exactly. She doesn’t recognize any of the buildings, and she doesn’t see anything that looks remotely familiar, but her attempts to figure it out are curbed when she recognizes the familiar red and blue lights and the camera lights from news crews trained on her and Bellamy. She looks up at him and he smiles a little at her as she wraps her arm around his neck, burying her face even more into his chest.

_Now everyone will know the truth._

* * *

**_One Week Later…_ **

Raven squeezes her hand and Clarke takes a deep, steadying breath. _You can do this. You can do this. You can do this_. Since it’s only been a week, she’s still not fully healed from all of the injuries she sustained while being held by the three heroes, but she’s well enough to want to talk to the people about everything that’s happened. In fact, Ryker was also released from the hospital in the past couple of days, and he reached out to her almost immediately to see if she would want to do this.

She looks at her best friend, and Raven smiles as Clarke’s name is called by Ryker. “Go kill it.”

Clarke takes another breath as she grabs onto the railing and she pulls herself up the stairs as best she can before finally reaching the stage and walking out. Ryker smiles at her, and she does the same as the reach out and shake each other’s hands, and he motions for her to take the stand. They’re in the park, and the sun is starting to go down as she looks out at all of the reporters and cameras and the people of the city.

“Hello, my name is Clarke Griffin. As many of you know, I was attacked by three of the city’s biggest heroes a week ago, and held in an abandoned building a couple of miles out of town. I have gotten many questions about why they attacked me, and how it was the villains, along with the Arkadia Police Department and Demeter, who rescued me. I’ve also gotten questions about why it was The Rebel who walked me out of the building when he was the one believed to have attacked me only weeks before, and I am here to tell you that he didn’t attack me.

“Before my attack, Mr. Ryker was beaten within an inch of his life for making a promise to the people that he would make sure that everyone is held accountable for their actions. Civilians and Heroes and Villains alike. I believe that we as a society have grown too accustomed to the heroes committing acts of violence against others, since it was supposedly done in the name of what is good and right, but it wasn’t. We let ourselves believe that since we held them in such a high regard, then they could do no wrong. That since they were in the spotlight and meant to protect us, that they would never betray us. But we were wrong.”

A movement in the back of the crowd catches her attention, and when she looks, Bellamy is standing close to a tree with sunglasses on and his arms crossed over his chest, and he smiles at her. 

“I have had the pleasure of talking with some of the people that have been labeled “villains” by our societal standards, and I can honestly tell you that most of them are kind, and compassionate, and even though they do things that our society looks down on, I have never been scared of them. The Rebel is the same. When I first took on the case for Ark Wishes, people told me that it was a mistake. That there was no way I could let our city’s biggest super villain near a child. But, after talking to him, I knew he was just as excited to meet them as they were to meet him. After, I had the ability to talk with The Rebel more, and I learned a lot about him that went against the long-held beliefs of what a “super villain” was.

“The night I was first attacked, Iron Saber cornered me in an alley to get me to give him information about The Rebel. I did not have anything to tell him as I had already told my boss, the police, and the heroes everything I knew. He didn’t want to accept the fact that I knew just as much as he did, if not less. So, he attacked me. I was lucky that The Rebel and Demeter were there in time to save me. Without them, I’m not sure what would have happened. And the same can be said for just last week when they, along with the others, found me and brought me back home. Today, Ryker Desai and I are officially launching our campaign together with Ryker resuming his position for Mayor, and I as the Chief Executive Officer over the Supers Collaboration and Protection Department within our council.

“We need to reform our system, as well as our societal expectations, for what it means to have people protecting our city and, together, Ryker and I believe that we could make it happen. I am sure a lot of you have questions, and we will try to answer as many as we can. Now, who’s first?”

  
  


**_One Year Later…_ **

“Mrs. Blake, your husband is here to see you.” Maya calls over the intercom, and Clarke is pretty sure she can hear the smile in her friend’s voice.

“He didn’t do the dishes last night, tell him I’m busy,” Clarke calls back, and she listens as Maya laughs.

“He has a big bouquet of flowers as an apology. Still want me to send him back?”

“Does he have chocolate, too?”

There’s a pause. “What do you take him for? A cheapskate?”

Clarke laughs even harder. “Okay, fine, he can come in.”

A minute later Bellamy walks through her door with a large bouquet of Peruvian Lilies in his hand and an almost equally big box of chocolate. Clarke tries glaring when she sees him, but she’s never been able to quite keep it up for long when he smiles at her like that. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and his hair looks windblown and wild. But, it usually does.

“I’m sorry,” he says, setting the flowers and chocolate down on her desk. “Can you forgive me?”

Clarke purses her lips together, looking between him and the presents he’s brought her. “Yes,” she says after a moment. “ _This_ time.”

Bellamy laughs as he leans forward and braces his hands on the armrests of her chair and leans forward, their noses almost touching. “Does this mean I still get a kiss?”

“I don’t know. You could try and find out,” she whispers, and Bellamy’s smile widens for a second before he presses their lips together. His lips are always so soft, and Clarke reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He gives her another kiss, and then without her realizing what exactly is happening, she’s not sitting in her chair anymore but instead Bellamy’s lap while he’s in her chair. She laughs as she leans against him, and he reaches out and hands her the box of chocolate. “I thought maybe you would like something sweet.”

“ _Do I._ ” Clarke makes quick work of the wrapping and opens the top, biting at her lip as she tries to figure out which one she wants. When she finally settles on one, her eyes flutter closed as she takes a bite of it, and she hums. “You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting chocolate.”

Bellamy laughs and presses a kiss to her shoulder. “I’ll make sure to buy you a bowl to keep in here.”

Clarke hands him the other half of the piece of chocolate as she goes for another one, and Bellamy’s hand comes to rest on her stomach. _A lot has happened in a year_. After the second attack, Clarke ended up staying at Bellamy’s with her mother and Lincoln coming in to check on her every day, sometimes multiple times a day, and it gave the two of them more time to talk. And there was _a lot_ of talking.

It was clear that they had feelings for each other, but they had to figure out what that meant in terms of a relationship with Bellamy being The Rebel and the fact that he spent a lot of nights out in the city. Of course, not every relationship is perfect, and having her boyfriend be the biggest vigilante in the city wasn’t something she could change, but Clarke told him that she wanted to at least try. Afterall, how could they go through so much together to not at least see where else it goes?

Well, it was the best decision they could have made. They were great together, and they had _fun_. It was like they had been best friends their entire lives, and they loved it. To anyone else, their relationship would have seemed way too rushed to get married only within four months of actually being “officially” dating, but to those who knew them, it wasn’t a surprise at all. So, they had a small ceremony with them and their friends and family, and they were married. At first, Abby didn’t know what to think about having The Rebel as her son-in-law, but he quickly won her over as soon as he cooked.

Now, Bellamy is an instructor at the college and Clarke is the chief of the SCPD. Well, at least during the day. At night, Bellamy still roams the streets with Clarke watching the monitors with their friends. At least, when they’re not at Octavia’s. With the new department, the people that were labeled villains have been given a second chance to use their talents for good rather than being chased and hunted by the police. They’re also expecting their first child together, which both of them couldn’t be happier about.

“Oh, I got you something,” Clarke mumbles around another piece of chocolate, then she leans over and opens her desk drawer to grab her purse.

“Ooh, I get a present?” Bellamy’s arms tighten around her as he leans his head on her arm, and Clarke pulls out a baby onesie.

“Tah-dah!”

“Oh my god.” Bellamy laughs as he looks at the image that’s on it. It’s a picture of black face paint, similar to the way The Rebel’s mural was drawn on the side of the bar, and the words _Future Vigilante_ across it. She got the idea one night when she was trying to come up with a symbol for the department, which led to her calling Lincoln and convincing him that she just _had_ to have it. “I love it.”

“Good, because I would be really hurt if you didn’t.” Clarke leans back against her husband's chest and holds up the little piece of clothing. “I think this will have to be a conversation we have at some point though,” she murmurs. “Do we really want our kid growing up and getting into danger?”

“Does any parent ever want that?” Bellamy kisses her cheek. “We still have a while before we have to have that talk with him. Okay?”

“Okay.” Clarke turns and gives him a kiss, melting against him. “We can figure it all out later.” She yawns, and suddenly she’s _very_ tired and content to just fall asleep in his arms. That’s been happening a lot recently.

Bellamy chuckles and Clarke can feel his chest vibrate with it as he kisses her hair. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

A few months later, a dark-haired, blue-eyed baby boy is born and the two of them couldn’t be happier. And before he’s even ten he already has his father’s penchant for getting into trouble while simultaneously wanting to help every single person and animal he comes across. A daughter joins their family, along with another little boy, and Clarke and Bellamy do their best to teach them how important it is to be caring and kind while also helping them understand that not everything should be taken how people tell them. They want them to question everything, especially the things that don’t seem completely right.

And then, when Bellamy’s black hair begins to turn gray, and Clarke’s blonde hair gives away to white, they still find themselves walking the streets of their city. They find their way to the side of Octavia’s, now run by their niece and her family, with The Rebel’s face still front and center, having been surrounded by more images of the other people who protected their city. The people that became their friends. They’re too old to be able to do what they used to, but they know that they don’t have anything to worry about.

They committed their lives to the development of the supers, even raising a few of their own. And the world seems a little bit safer than it did when they were younger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...thoughts? Comments? Did you like it? Did you hate it? Did I lose you at any point? I love hearing from all of you <3 This was my first superhero/supervillain AU and if it seems like I didn't know exactly what I was doing then that's the reason why lol I know a few of you asked who the other heroes were but I left them vague on purpose to see who y'all think they are! I do have people in mind for Shaynetta and Iron Saber, but I feel like Father Prime is pretty obvious lol So...if anyone wants to take a guess as to who the others are then I'll tell you who I thought of :)
> 
> I want to say thank you soooooo much for showing this fic love and sticking with me through the hiatuses and me not knowing what exactly I wanted to do with this fic. It means so much to me! I'll catch you on the flip side :)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments and kudos are always appreciated xx
> 
> You can find me on...
> 
> Tumblr: xxawalkinwonderlandxx  
> Twitter: awalknwonderlnd


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